《The Evil Inside》


 Prologue

    The highway deputy was the first officer on the scene. When he got there, he quickly wished that he taken his girlfriend''s advice and called in sick that day. He actually had a stuffy nose but it wasn''t bad enough to skip out on his responsibilities. Yet there he was, out there on the highway in the pouring rain wishing that he had taken her advice and spent the day at home watching Netflix with her. It was too late for that as he took some flares out of the back of his cruiser and placed them on the road after lighting them up so that he could signal to oncoming cars that there was an accident they had to avoid. The officer also parked his cruiser behind the cars that were involved and kept his lights on. The accident took up two of three lanes, but he couldn''t touch a thing until the paramedics and the fire department arrived. If there were any fatalities, traffic would be cut off until the meat wagon arrived to take them away. After the scene was secure to prevent additional cars from adding to the pileup, the officer ran up to the nearest car and checked under for any fuel leaks. None there and he went on to check the others and luckily there was no fuel to ignite any fires.


    So far so good he thought as he went over to the car that was damaged the most to check on the passengers of each car. When he got to that car it was pretty much totaled and the driver, who luckily was the only person in the car, was dead. Definitely going to need the meat wagon for this one, he thought as the young officer ran over to check the other cars. The first only had minor damage from not being able to hit the brakes after the initial accident occurred. But the other car involved in the accident was hit in the side and was in a ditch. Like the other two there was no fuel leak and as he slowly came down the ditch, he checked on the driver, who was also his only passenger. His car had no airbag so his face impacted with the steering wheel and that completed crushed his nose. The trauma of hitting the steering wheel also knocked him unconscious, so at minimum based on how hard his nose smashed into the wheel, this was at least a severe concussion.


    The man in the car was unrecognizable as his face was covered in blood from his nose. The officer checked for vitals and the man was still alive. Thankfully that whole thing about a bone in your nose being hit into your brain was just an urban legend. Had it been true, this man would have been killed as well. He looked like someone smashed him in the face with a sledge hammer. He stayed by the man''s side and waited for the paramedics to arrive. When they did they first put a brace around the driver''s neck before trying to remove him from the vehicle. While they were doing that, the sheriff arrived on the scene and called his man to get out of the ditch to speak with him.


    As the young officer made his way to the road, he tipped his hat to his boss. "Morning Sheriff."


    "Good morning, Deputy." The Sheriff replied as he looked at the car below. "Do we have any idea what happened here?"


    "From what I gathered," his deputy started as he pointed to the car that contained the only fatality so far. "This was apparently all his fault."


    "Is that so?" The sheriff inquired.


    "It is." The deputy confirmed. "I have eye witnesses that claim he ran a red light and t-boned this guy here. If the car had hit the driver''s side instead of the passenger side, this guy would be dead as well."


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    "And the third car?" The sheriff asked.


    "Just some dumb broad who can''t drive and didn''t have enough space to hit the brakes in time." The young deputy answered.


    "Not surprising." The sheriff said as he kept looking around. While he was watching the paramedics remove the driver from his car in the ditch, he looked at the back of the car. "Florida plates."


    The deputy looked down as well.


    "I didn''t notice that." The deputy confessed.


    "You do remember this morning''s briefing?" The Sheriff reminded him, "The feds asked us to look for a blue car with Florida plates that might be coming this way. Any of that ring a bell, deputy?"


    "I forgot," The deputy admitted, "I''m sorry."


    The Sheriff gestured to the car in the ditch. "And what color is the car we have here with Florida plates?"


    The deputy paused for a moment. "It''s blue."


    "It''s blue." The sheriff confirmed as he started to walk into the ditch and inspect the car.


    "I''m sorry." The deputy repeated. "I was so consumed with securing the accident and making sure there wasn''t any gas leaks that it completely slipped my mind. The guy''s face is so beaten, I couldn''t recognize him anyway."


    "Well let''s take a look around." The sheriff said as he opened the door and started to inspect inside the car.


    "Don''t we need a warrant for this?" the deputy asked.


    "No, we don''t." The sheriff answered, "This is the scene of an accident. We are inspecting all cars for signs of impairment to make sure none of these people were driving under the influence. So I''m inspecting each car for possible beer cans or bottles of liquor. That is well within my right when investigating a fatal collision on my highway."


    After looking through the interior of the ditched car, the sheriff reached into the driver''s side which was now vacated and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He tossed the keys to the deputy who was still watching.


    "Open the trunk." He ordered.


    "Yes, Sir." The deputy said, as he caught the keys.


    While the kid was working on the trunk since there were quite a few keys on the ring, the sheriff continued to look inside the car, looking for a wallet or papers that could help identify the driver. He found none. Not even forms for insurance in the glove compartment. But there was something under the passenger seat that did catch his interest. The sheriff stood up and held up his right hand.


    "Look what I found in the glove compartment." He said as he waved the handgun around.


    It was a 9mm glock semi-automatic. Since the weapon was not legal without the proper paperwork in this state, he now had every right to keep looking around. He looked back at the deputy who was not responding.


    "What''s in there?" The sheriff asked.


    "Not what, Sir." The deputy answered. "But who."


    The sheriff bolted to the back of the car, and his suspicions had been correct. This was the blue car that the feds were asking everyone to keep an eye out to look for. In the trunk of that car was two dead women. At first the sheriff thought the accident might have killed them but after minimal inspection he could tell that likely wasn''t correct. Chances are forensics will tell him that they were dead for a few days. This was the car and man the feds were looking for, and had an irresponsible driver not ran a red light, he would have flown through the sheriff''s district unnoticed. Fate was not on this man''s side today as the largest manhunt in the nation had come to an end, all thanks to dumb luck.

 1. Eyes Wide Closed

    When he first opened his eyes, the man had no idea what was going on. The lights were rather bright, but considering that he was on his back it was easy to deduce that he was in bed. As his eyes slowly began to focus, the man was surprised to see that he had a cast on his arm. It took a few moments for him to finally realize that he was in a hospital. There was a bandage on his head, but that wasn''t the worst of it as he looked down at his legs only to realize one of them was also in a cast. He looked down at the arm with out a case, and on his wrist there was a tag that had a name on it: John Doe.


    That''s a weird name, he thought to himself, but it was something to work with for now. John tried sit up but he didn''t have the energy. This led him to think that the lack of energy and muscle might suggest he had been staying at this hospital for quite some time. He took a deep breath and just tried to relax. It was apparent John wasn''t going anywhere, especially on one leg so there was no immediate need for him to hop out of bed. He soon realized that he didn''t even need to go to the bathroom as there was some rather uncomfortable tubes hooked up to his privates. This was also a big hint to how long he might have been in this building. He didn''t get here yesterday and it was this point where John finally discovered a new problem. He couldn''t remember why he was there or anything else for that matter. He had no recollection of anything. It was like someone had erased every video from the hard drive of his brain. The blank void that remained frustrated John a great deal as he couldn''t remember what event caused him to be in this bed. It was one thing to lose a few hours, but for John there was nothing. It was going to be a long day if he didn''t get someone to talk to very soon.


    Suddenly there was a sound. The door had swung opened and John watched as a pretty cute nurse casually walked in, checked his charts, and even started talking to him.


    "And how are we doing this morning, Mr. Doe?" she asked.


    "I''ve been better," John confessed, "How are you?"


    After hearing what John had said, the nurse screamed and jumped as if someone had crept up behind her. Clearly she wasn''t expecting him to answer and even saying a word gave her a fright.


    "Holy shit!" she yelled as she backed away from the bed.


    "Are you alright, ma''am?" John asked.


    "I''m sorry," The nurse said, taking a deep breath. "I''m alright. You stay there, and I''ll be right back."


    The nurse bolted into the hallway and her response was another clue to John as to how long he had been residing in this hospital. When the nurse walked in, clearly she wasn''t expecting someone to talk back to her. It gave John the indication that he wasn''t just in an accident but that he had just woken up from being in a rather decent coma.


    A few minutes later, the doctor came into the room to examine him. John could see the surprise on his face too. The doctor was likely thinking that the nurse was pulling a joke on him, but there he was: wide eyed and ready to talk.


    "What''s up doc?" John called out.


    The doctor didn''t respond at first and instead choose to look at his eyes doing various tests with a small flashlight. "Things look all right. Tell me Mr. Doe, do you know where you are?"


    "I assume this is a hospital." John answered.


    "That is correct." The doctor replied. "Do you remember how you got here? What happened before you opened your eyes?"


    "I''m afraid not." John answered.


    "What''s the last thing you can remember?" the doctor asked.


    "I can''t remember anything." John answered.


    "Nothing?" The doctor repeated.


    "Fraid not, doc." John confirmed.


    "Nothing at all?" the doctor asked again.


    "Ziltch." John answered again.


    The doctor took that flashlight out again and re-examined his eyes. "I was afraid that might happen. Can you at least remember what your name is?"


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    "It''s John." The patient replied. "Says so right here."


    The doctor sighed, clearly frustrated.


    "That''s not your name." He explained, "It''s just a generic the hospital gives patients that we can''t identify. The fact you can read, however, it is actually a good sign. You are remembering some things, like how to read, but you''re just not able to recall any actual memories."


    "Will my memories come back to me?" John asked.


    "I''m not sure," The doctor answered. "The brain is a very fickle thing. It could all come back tomorrow or it might never come back at all. It''s really not something we can foretell as head traumas tend to be quite unpredictable and believe me you took a really nasty one when your lights went out."


    "What exactly happened to me?" John asked.


    "I think we''ll let the police fill you in on that." The doctor answered.


    "What do you mean the police?" John asked, slightly confused. "Am I in trouble?"


    "I''m not sure." The doctor replied, "They just want to ask you a few questions for now."


    The doctor could tell how stressed John was getting and put a reassuring hand on John''s shoulder.


    "Try to should focus on the positives instead," the doctor said, "You''re awake, and more importantly... you''re alive. Let''s start there and appreciate burn the other bridges when we get to them."


    John took a deep breath. "Alright, thank you."


    "Not a problem." The doctor said as he started to leave the room. "I''ll make sure the nurse brings in something solid to eat. I''d recommend starting slow; your gut needs time to adjust to eating solids again."


    After the doctor and nurse left, John sat there and looking up at the ceiling. He tried his best to remember anything but it was still just a blank space. He turned to the table beside him and there was nothing. No flowers, no magazines, no signs that anyone had come there to visit him. Only a few thoughts ran through John''s head as he looked around: either no one knew where he was or there was no one out there that cared enough to visit. Rather than pout about something he had no control over, John struggled to sit up in his bed but failed again. Seconds later the nurse came back in to help.


    She tossed him a small remote that was beside his bed, "This will reposition the bed for you. Save your energy until it''s safe to move around. Okay?"


    "You know best I suppose." John said as he used the remove to lift the back of his bed so that he would be sitting up a bit. He reached over to the table beside him and grabbed a small bottle of water that was unopened. He cracked it open but did as the doctor said and only took a few sips. His mouth was bone dry so to let the water spill into his mouth felt so refreshing. He laid back against the bed and sighed, closing his eyes and tried to rest a bit. Moments later he bed shook and as John opened his eyes, he was startled to see the police was there as the doctor had earlier hinted. John could barely see them as his eyes were likely still focusing from being closed for such a long time. He squinted and could bare look past the gauze that was covering his face. "Can I help you?" he softly asked.


    "You can start by giving us your name." One of the men in uniform asked. He didn''t seem very happy at that moment and John couldn''t help but feel he was the reason for it.


    "I don''t know," John answered. "I was honestly hoping you''d have that information for me."


    "What the fuck is this bullshit?" one of other uniformed officers called out. Clearly he wasn''t impressed with that answer.


    "Calm down, Sheriff." A voice called from outside. John turned his head to see who it was. There was a man wearing a suit and he looked to be no older than forty five, but he didn''t recognize him either. "I just spoke with the doctor and it appears that John here is having trouble recalling anything. He''s suffering from severe amnesia which isn''t uncommon considering the shot he took to the head during the accident."


    "What kind of accident are you talking about?" John asked.


    The older man turned back to look at John. "I''m afraid you were involved in a very brutal car accident."


    "How brutal?" John asked.


    "Life was lost." The old man replied.


    "I''m sorry." John suddenly said. He couldn''t'' recall the accident but he was hoping this wasn''t his fault. From the anger he was getting from the Sheriff, there was a good chance that it was.


    "That''s not necessary." The man in the suit replied. "Your vehicle was struck by another that ran a red light. The driver who was in the other car didn''t survive. Except for yourself and the other driver, everyone else walked away with only minor injuries."


    "I can''t remember any of it." John confessed.


    "What can you remember?" the man asked.


    "Nothing." John answered. "I can''t remember anything before waking up here."


    "Thank you for speaking with us John." The old man responded. "We appreciate your efforts. I''ve left my card with your doctor. If you do happen to remember anything, can we speak to you about it later?"


    "Of course," John answered. "I''ll do what I can to help."


    "Just relax, John." The nurse said as she adjusted some pillows for him. "I think it''s time you all left."


    The nurse seemed very defensive but was likely just doing her job. The sheriff didn''t seem impressed with her attitude, but he left anyway. John didn''t know why he was so upset, but any accident where life was lost had to be traumatic to anyone so he could hardly blame him for be a little pissed off. He was likely hoping to get some answers to what happened but John had let him down. Not remembering anything was so frustrating. He sat back and just sighed deeply and tried to relax.


    A few moments later the nurse came back with a tray which was likely his lunch. "Here you go. I hope you like it."


    "I''m not sure," John said as he took the lid of the tray. "But I guess there''s only one way to find out."

 2. Summoning Max Sheppard

    Max Sheppard was what many people in his profession would call a decent lawyer. While Max lost more cases than he cases than he won, the truth was he took on a lot of cases people would have labeled unwinnable and tried to win them anyway. The fact that he won any of these cases on occasion was only a testament to how awesome the justice system really was. Even if the person he represented was guilty, fighting tooth and nail to beat the rap was Max''s way of making sure the rules were followed and the system worked. Everyone was entitled to a fair trial, and this included the poor who were guaranteed representation. Max believed that doing his best to win freedom for even the most vile for of scum not only upheld his rights but at the same time made sure that the convictions would never be overturned for one less reason. No one would ever accuse Max of not being incompetent, so any appeal of attorney misconduct would be squashed rather quickly and literally laughed out of court.


    Max had been working as a public defender for over ten years, and after all that time it was hard to find a case that surprised him. He had dealt with all types of people. From the gang bangers who wildly fired at anything that moved during a drive by to the teens who are trying to prevent a small mischief charge from ruining their chances to apply for an ivy league school. He had seen it all but it was this day something new, and it left him puzzled to what exactly was going on. Usually when he received a new case, Max would have access to all information but this time discovery wasn''t honored. The only thing attached to the file was a letter from the judge, asking him to meet a the courthouse with himself and a representative from the district attorney''s office to discuss the case. Max looked at the file and walked into his boss'' office.


    "Dave," he called out, "We need to talk."


    "What''s up Max?" Dave answered without looking back up.


    "What the fuck is this?" Max said as he help up the empty folder.


    "Oh, that." Dave said, understanding his frustration. "This case is under seal. The judge immediately issued a gag order before it was even assigned. Even I don''t know what it''s about."


    "Why did you give this piece of shit to me then?" Max asked.


    "They asked for our best," Dave answered. "This case, whatever it is, could be a potential powder keg. They wanted someone who would take the case on passionately and without prejudice and learn to follow its unique instructions. Considering that, I of course thought of you."


    "What the hell is going on?" Max asked.


    "I told you, I don''t know shit." Dave repeated, "You need to be down to the courthouse later today and find out. The feds are involved so I suggest you make this case your number one priority."


    "The feds?" Max repeated out loud. This can''t be good, he thought to himself. Usually the only time the feds got involved in anything is if someone died. "I''m supposed to be flying to Nashville with Janet to visit her parents in three weeks. As much as I don''t like visiting the in-laws, if my vacation gets cancelled because of this, you''ll be hearing from her."


    "Noted for the record," Dave said, as he waved him away. "You''re the man for this job. I don''t trust anyone else not to screw it up."


    "Fuck you, Dave." Max said as he left the office. He slapped the file, or what little of it there was onto the desk. He sat down for a few moments and then finally took out his cell phone and dialed it.


    A few seconds the line picked up. "Janet; it''s Max."


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    "Hey baby." She replied. "Is everything all right?"


    "I''m afraid not." Max replied. "I''m going to miss lunch today."


    "What''s going on?" she asked. She could sense something was wrong just based on his tone.


    "I''ve been called to the courthouse." Max informed her.


    "Are you in trouble?" Janet asked.


    "No, I''m being called in for a special case." Max answered, "Dave felt the need to drop it on my lap because this could get very political."


    "Are you going to be okay?" his wife inquired.


    "I''ll be fine once I find out what''s going on." Max said as he looked at the clock. "I''ve got to take off for the courthouse. I''ll pick you up after work and we''ll hit Wally''s for dinner."


    "Alright, sounds good." Janet replied, "Love you honey."


    "Loves ya too," Max turned off the cell and stuffed it into his pocket. Max wasn''t scheduled to be in court today, so he was wearing kakis, sandals and short sleeve dress shirt that bright orange. He wasn''t dressed for court but didn''t feel like changing because it was boiling outside. The courthouse was only a few blocks away, so Max didn''t take the car and just strolled over by foot. Once inside, the guards couldn''t help but giggle as he approached the metal detectors.


    "I''ve been called in with no notice," he informed them both, "So give me a break here, guys."


    "Alright Mr. Sheppard," The guard said as he did his usual routine. "Have a nice day."


    "You too," Max said as he took the stairs to the third floor of the courthouse. Once he was there, he slowly strolled over to the office of one Judge Herbert Jackson. He was an old and very grumpy judge so Max decided not to push the old man around until he realized what kind of case he was going to be working with. As he strolled into the main foyer of the judge''s office, his waved to the Judge''s secretary.


    "Hi there Dee," Max said, "I''m here to see Judge Jackson."


    "He''s expecting you, go on in." She said as she waved to the door. It was the first time he was immediately let in without getting the third degree first. Usually when Max visited the judge, he was always made to wait outside, like a school kid who did something terrible and was waiting to be seen by the principal. Max softly knocked on the door.


    "Come on in." the old raspy voice called out.


    Max opened the door and slowly stepped inside. What he saw in there was close to what he was expecting. The sheriff was there, as were a few well dressed members of what was likely the Federal Bureau of Investigations. Max also recognized the person representing the District Attorney, which was none other than the Assistant DA himself, Aaron Willis. He was their go to guy as well, something that was making Max a little nervous. The room was packed full of alphas, which mean this was going to be a brutal case.


    "Your honor," Max said as he walked in and took the only empty seat that was left.


    "Thank you for coming, Mr. Sheppard." The judge said as he took a deep breath. "We apologize for the secrecy but this case is going to be handled behind closed doors, from start to finish."


    "Is that even legal?" Max instinctively interrupted. "I mean doesn''t the defendant have the right to a fair trial and making that hearing public is a part of that."


    "How is holding a closed hearing against that right?" the sheriff suddenly asked, unimpressed by Max''s resistance.


    "Well, holding any trail secretly isn''t fair as they should be transparent to prevent abuse or cover ups." Max replied. "Unless this guy is a part of Al-Qaeda, you can''t keep this case under seal."


    "You see," The judge said as he grinned. "I told you he was good."


    "What the hell is going on here?" Max finally asked.


    It was this point where one of the feds, the oldest of them there finally spoke up. "The secrecy being used is actually to protect your client. We are afraid that if the charges were revealed to the public, there might be riots and attempts on his life."


    "You mean like a lynch mob mentality?" Max asked.


    "Exactly," The judge answered, sighing deeply. "What we have here is what one might call a legal anomaly. I don''t think we''ve ever had a case like this before."


    "Let''s start off with the basics." Max asked. "Who''s my client?"


    "That''s part of the problem," The judge answered. "We don''t know."

 3. The Hidden Truth

    Max stood there in the judge''s chambers with a puzzled look on his face, as what the judge had just told him was the last thing he expected to hear. How can someone be charged, much less arrested if they have no idea who that person is. How can guilt or innocence be established if they cannot even prove the man''s identity. There were so many questions bouncing around in his brain, but Max chose to go with what he believed was clearly the most pressing one to ask.


    "What do you mean you don''t know?" Max asked, as he didn''t think it was possible to get more confused than he already was.


    "Almost two months ago, there was a traffic accident." The judge answered, passing a file folder to the young attorney. "One man was killed when his vehicle struck your client''s car after running a red light."


    "So what you''re saying," Max started, "Is that my client didn''t cause this accident?"


    "He did not." The judge answered.


    "Then why the hell am I here?" Max said, obviously frustrated by the case already.


    "The charges come from what was discovered in the car," The FBI agent said as he stepped in.


    "I''m sorry," Max said, looking up at the nicely dressed agent who was about a decade older than him. "But who the hell are you?"


    "This is Special Agent Wilson," The judge answered, "He''s a member of the FBI''s behavior analysis unit."


    "Pleasure to meet you," Agent Wilson said as he handed another file over to Max. "After your client was removed from his car and sent to hospital, we found two dead bodies in the trunk. Autopsies on both vics proved that they were already dead at least twenty-four hours before the accident."


    Max looked at the photos and some of the key details stuck out for him. From the way the young girls were bound, the color of their hair and even their slender figures. He couldn''t'' believe what he was looking at. "Are you trying to tell me that..."


    "Yes," The fed answered.


    Max sat back in his seat and a deeply sighed, as there was a good chance his vacation just got cancelled: this was a case of capital murder. "I don''t understand. You think my client killed these girls, but you don''t know who he is?"


    "That is the current conundrum in a nutshell." The judge confessed.


    "We''ve ran his blood, his DNA, and fingerprints through every database we have access to." Wilson added, "And even a few other databases we had no business accessing, and still nothing came up. No priors, no record, just nothing."


    "Have you interviewed my client?" Max asked, "Was he even read his rights?"


    "He hasn''t been formally charged yet." The judge answered.


    "Why not?" Max demanded.


    This is when the DA finally spoke up.


    "We don''t know who he is." Aaron simply said, "The suspect was in a coma all this time and only woke up two days ago."


    Max paused and then grinned as he figured out what was going on. "He doesn''t remember a damn thing, does he?"


    "I''m afraid not," The judge confirmed, "Not even his own name."


    "We''ve sent John Doe''s photo to every law enforcement office that has a fax machine." Agent Wilson continued, "So far, we''ve had no response to any of our queries but there''s were it gets even more complicated.


    Agent Wilson then passed a new photo to Max. It was from the hospital the day John Doe arrived. His face was severely damaged and it was just a bloody mess.


    "Holy crap," Max said, handing it back to Wilson as he was clearly revolted. "That''s my client?"


    "I''m afraid so," Wilson said, "The suspect''s face was smashed into the steering wheel during the accident. His nose was obliterated and it took several procedures to reconstruct it. He also had orbital fractures and required many other procedures on other parts of his face. There''s a good chance the suspect doesn''t look anything like what he did prior to the accident."


    "This is seriously messed up." Max said as he thought hard about the situation. "If this guy can''t be identified, then how can he be tried?"


    "There is precedence." The judge answered, "My dilemma is his amnesia. He doesn''t remember doing anything."


    "That''s a problem in itself." Max said, as he closed the folder and placed it on the judge''s desk. "The only thing linking him to the crime is the fact he was driving the car. That proves nothing."


    "What?" the sheriff barked, clearly frustrated. Up until this point Max had forgotten he was even in the room.


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    "What if my client had rented the car or even burrowed it from a friend?" Max suggested, "He might not have known what was back there. If I trace that car to a rental agency, then your entire case goes right out the damn window. Do you have an idea who owns the car?"


    "We traced it back to Miami," Wilson said, "It was stolen from a neighborhood that was just blocks from where the two victims used to reside. That doesn''t bode well for your client."


    "All you have is my client in a stolen car." Max retorted, "What if the person he stole it from is your killer?"


    "Now you''re starting to see our predicament." The judge replied, "We have no idea what to do. Even if he is our killer, he doesn''t remember anything, which means..."


    "Which means he might not meet the state''s requirements to competently stand trial," Max finished for him, "If he is truly a clean slate and remembers absolutely nothing, he''s not responsible for his actions."


    "I''ve heard enough of this bullshit." The sheriff said as he stormed out of the room.


    DA Willis was the next to speak. "We were thinking the same thing. We have only asked simple questions, but your client has no idea what''s going on, and we prefer to keep it that way."


    "Hold on," Max said, as he sat up, "You haven''t informed my client that he might be a murder suspect. Why not?"


    "Mr. Sheppard," Wilson said as he wanted to speak next. "Do you have any idea how difficult it was to keep Ted Bundy incarcerated?"


    "No, not really," Max honestly answered. He wasn''t into serial killer lore and actually tried to avoid things that could be related to his line of work as much as possible when he wasn''t at work.


    "He was a nightmare," Wilson continued, "He made several attempts to escape when being transferred to court, and he was responsible for killing several of his fellow inmates. He was just as dangerous inside the system as he was outside. If John Doe doesn''t remember any actions that he might have committed over the past several years, we have no intention of reminding him anytime soon. Right now this man is not a threat to anyone, and we prefer to keep him that way for the foreseeable future."


    Max could understand what was going on. "How sure are you that this could be your man?"


    "Well, the killings have stopped." Wilson answered. "Before the accident, we were finding anywhere from two to four bodies a month. Since the accident we''ve had a big, fat, goose egg."


    "That can be dismissed as coincidence." Max retorted.


    "We''re not going to lie to you, Mr. Sheppard." The judge said, coming back into the conversation. "There is more than enough reasonable doubt for you to work with. We are well aware of that, which is why I''m sure the other side wants to avoid a trial."


    "What are you looking for?" Max asked.


    "We want you to speak to your client." Willis answered. "We are willing to offer him a deal. If he voluntarily admits himself into a metal facility of our choosing, we''ll won''t charge him with anything."


    "What will happen to him if he agrees?" Max asked.


    "He''ll remain there until the doctors there sign him off as fit to reenter society." The judge answered. "We''re offering him a chance to start over with a clean slate, literally."


    "Wow," Max said as he couldn''t believe what he was hearing. If this man truly was responsible for what they think he did, they were willing to cut him a lot of slack for being fortunate enough not to remember anything. "I''ll have to speak with him first."


    "Of course," Agent Wilson said, "We want you to deliver the offer to him but to avoid answering any questions that could trigger a memory. If he is who we think he is, we would prefer he remain in the state he''s in for not only his safety, but for society''s safety as well."


    "Alright, I get where this is going." Max said as he straightened up in his chair. "You think you have your man but you''re not sure you can secure a conviction with what you have, which is minuscule based one what I''m seeing. So, if you get this deal done, at least you''ll have him out of the way just as a per-caution just in case he''s the guy we''re looking for. Have I got this right?"


    "You nailed it precisely," The judge confirmed.


    "Alright, when can I speak with my client?" Max asked.


    "He''s at the hospital," The judge answered. "You may speak to him anytime you like. We have guards at the door to make sure he isn''t disturbed by anyone."


    "Everything he tells me when we start talking is privilege." Max reminded everyone in the room. "From here on any information that I give back to you is only with my client''s permission. Are we clear on this, gentlemen?"


    "I believe we''re all aware of that." Willis replied.


    "I don''t think you are," Max countered, as he shot a gaze over at the over-confident DA. "He could have total recall two months from now and if I''m the only one who knows it, I can''t tell anyone about it unless he poses a threat to commit future crimes. I''m stretching my book as far as it will go, but I will not incriminate my client unless he poses an immediate threat to others. Are we clear?"


    "As long as you follow the gag order, we are." The judge said as he realized how serious Max was.


    "I get the gag order," Max said, remembering the photos of how the women were bound and gagged in the back of the car. If this man was who they thought he was, he new client might be the biggest serial killer since Jack the Ripper. "Last thing we need are lynch mobs and riots. I''d apply for a change of venue so fast you''re fucking heads will spin."


    "You wouldn''t dare!" Willis said, surprised by his audacity.


    "I just might," Max said, not exactly giving a shit about anyone''s feeling at this particular moment.


    "He can, and there''s a good chance he might get it." The Judge conceded, which was the reason for the gag order too. "Mr. Sheppard, I am sure you will do what you think is right but be warned that this is a sticky situation and we''re doing our best to be fair to all parties involved."


    "I understand," Max said, hopping out of his chair. "Good day gentlemen. I''m going to speak with my client."


    As the young attorney left the room, everyone else began to gabble between one another but Max wasn''t too worried about what they were talking about. He was presented with a difficult case and while this might not be the long, overrunning case he feared it might be. Max still had to do his best to not break any ethical rules when trying to serve his client. At the moment the issue was not guilt or innocence but state of mind considering at the moment John Doe didn''t have a fucking clue to what he may or may not have done.


    Max had to go back to the office before he went to visit John. He had to consult a few law books just to make sure he wasn''t breaking any laws after the conversation he just had. After that he was going to have to visit his mystery client, someone who could be completely innocent of the crimes the people in the judge''s office assumed he did. Even if he did commit those crimes, he had no recollection about it now and probably couldn''t hurt a fly. It was a sticky situation and the fact that it''s sealed from the public created other issues. Max knew he had his work cut out and decided to get something a case like this badly needed: a second opinion.

 4. First Contact

    John had been experimenting with his food for the last few days. He couldn''t remember what foods he liked or didn''t like, making everything he tasted a first time. It was something he would have to discover all over again, and one food at a time. There was also an issue with allergies so when it came time to try something like peanut butter or shell fish for the first time, John had to have a nurse present to make sure he didn''t go into anaphylactic shock. John had no reactions to any of those foods yet, so he considered himself quite lucky so far. After a few days since he woke up his mind was still as blank as the day he opened his eyes. It was like someone had reformatted his brain, leaving it in the same state it was in when it first came out of the womb. It was quite frustrating but John had to remember what the doctor told him: he was alive. When he got better, he would be able to leave the hospital and make a life for himself. That couldn''t be said for the other driver from what he overheard according to the officers stationed at his door.


    John was eating a cup of jello when there was a knock on his door. He paused for a moment, and then there was another knock.


    "The door''s open." he called out.


    The door slowly creaked open and a moment later a man close to his own age strolled into the room. His shirt was a little flashy but he couldn''t remember if he liked that or not so John couldn''t comment on it just yet.


    "Can I help you?" John asked.


    "Hi, there John." The young man said as he extended his hand to him. "My name is Max Sheppard."


    "Hey Max," John said as he shook his hand.


    "Before we start." Max said as he pulled up a chair and sat down beside the patient''s bed. "Were you informed of why I''m here?"


    "I''m afraid not." John answered.


    "Alright, then let''s start with that." Max said, as he took a deep breath. "I''m your court appointed attorney."


    "You are?" John asked.


    "For the time being, at least." Max honestly answered.


    "Do you know who I am?" John then asked, hoping this was someone from his past.


    "I''m afraid not, sorry." Max said, taking out a pad and a pen from his briefcase. "I''m a public defender. I''ve been assigned your case to represent your best interests. Everyone is guaranteed a lawyer; that''s your right as an American."


    "Do I need a lawyer?" John inquired. "I mean the accident wasn''t my fault. Why would I need a lawyer?"


    Max paused for a moment. "After the accident, the police found something in your car."


    "What kind of something?" John asked.


    "Something I''m fairly confident isn''t legal." Max answered.


    "What am I going to be charged with?" John asked.


    "Nothing at the moment," Max answered, "Because of our inability to identify you, and the fact that there''s no one home in there..." Max took a moment to pretend to knock on his own skull. "It means you don''t meet the state''s requirement to stand trail, at least that''s what I think. The fact that the state hasn''t charged you with anything seems to confirm that they agree with me on that one."


    "This is confusing." John said as he tried to process it.


    "I''ve been practicing law for close to ten years and I''ve never seen a situation like this before." Max said with a smile. "Trust me John; this situation is confusing even the more experienced law minds."


    "I can only imagine." John said as he shuffled position in his bed. "I don''t remember doing anything. Everything is gone."


    "That''s I''ve been told," Max confirmed as he kept scribbling something on his notepad. "So you still remember nothing?"


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    "That''s an affirmative, counselor." John answered.


    "Okay," Max said as he stopped writing for a moment. "I want to let you know right now if anything does come back to you, I only want you to speak to me about it. Everything you say to me is protected by attorney client privilege. As long as you do not pose an immediate threat to others, I cannot tell anyone anything you say, even if your memory completely comes back to you."


    "Why are you telling me this?" John asked.


    "I want you to limit how much you tell anyone." Max replied. "The last think I want you to do is unknowingly incriminate yourself."


    "Do you think I''m guilty of what they think I did?" John asked.


    Max paused for a moment. "I''m going to be honest with you John; I don''t know. I''ll also tell you this much; I''ve won against cases stronger than this in court. What they have is very weak. I have doubts and it wouldn''t require much effort to convince a jury of your peers feel the same way."


    John took a deep breath. "Okay, thanks."


    Max did his best to seem friendly despite what he knew. "I need to ask you for a favor, John."


    "Sure." John replied. "What do you need?"


    "This is a very confusing case," Max said as he preferred to be as honest with John about what they could talk about. "I would like permission to seek advice from someone I deeply respect. He''s retired but talks to me about things whenever I''m in a pickle. If you sign this waiver he''ll become a member of our legal team, which means I''ll be able to talk to him about the case without breaking privilege."


    "Is he a lawyer too?" John asked.


    "No, his was disbarred a few years ago." Max answered. "He was a mentor of mine but he doesn''t practice law anymore. I still go to him for advice when I''m facing difficult situations like this one. I also like the old bastard and his help on occasion has helped me win many cases. Take my word for this, John, this is a weird one. So not only do I need help, I need it from someone who we can both trust to keep everything confidential."


    "Alright," John said, picking up the piece of paper. He looked back at his lawyer. "I''m not sure what to write down."


    "Just put an X for now." Max replied. "I can witness it and that should be enough."


    John did as he was told and drew two lines against one another. He handed the form back to his lawyer. "What happens now?"


    "Right now there''s an offer on the table." Max said with a deep sigh. "They want you to voluntarily check into a mental institution for long term therapy."


    "What happens if I do that?" John asked.


    "You''ll stay there until the doctors deem you fit to re-enter society." Max answered, looking at John to see how he would respond.


    "How long would that take?" John asked.


    "It really depends on the doctors." Max answered.


    "Meaning?" John asked.


    "Meaning it could be two months or two years." Max explained.


    "What do I get out of this?" John said, feeling down.


    "No charges." Max answered, "This case simply vanishes like your memory and is never seen or heard of ever again."


    "Is that good?" John asked.


    "In this state, and with this judge?" Max said, thinking about it. "I happen to think it''s amazing. Deal of the damn century."


    John seemed to shuffle in his spot again. "Can I have some time to think about it?"


    Max jumped up from his seat. "Of course you can. I wouldn''t mind a little time to speak with my new associate about the case before we go back to the Judge and the DA."


    "Thanks for coming by," John said, appreciating a new friend.


    "Not a problem," Max said as he took a look around the room to see how empty it was. "You want me to bring anything back with me the next time I come over?"


    "Like what?" John asked.


    "I don''t know." Max said as he scoured around again. "Maybe a magazine, a book, a newspaper or maybe a burger?"


    "I''m not sure if I like any of those things." John honestly replied. "But thanks for the offer."


    "I''m going to be back first thing tomorrow morning," Max said as he grabbed his stuff and shook John''s hand again. "If anything comes back to you, wait until tomorrow morning to bring it up. We''ll talk more about your case when I get back."


    "Thanks Max." John said as he shook his lawyer''s hand.


    After shaking the client''s hand, Max left the room. John couldn''t see Max anymore but he could hear his lawyer talking to someone outside the room. Based on how close he was and that he could still hear him, John assumed he was speaking to the guard outside the door.


    "This man is my client." Max could be heard saying, "No one is allowed to speak with him, not even law enforcement unless it''s approved by me first. We clear on that, chief?"


    "Yes, Sir." a guard replied.


    "Good man," Max said, "Here''s my card. If anything happens, call me and I''ll get down here as quickly as I can."


    "Yes, Mr. Sheppard." The guard said.


    John couldn''t help but smile and deeply sigh as he sat back into his bed. Whatever they think he did, John was sure it had to be serious if there was a man sitting outside his door to make sure he never made a run for it. Regardless of what was going on, John suddenly felt a little better knowing that someone was there for him. This Max fellow was not only going to defend him to the bitter end, but based on the way he conducted himself, he seemed like a pretty stand up guy. Max was going to visit tomorrow to check up on him. John liked the idea of having a visitor the next day, even if that person was appointed by the court. It was nice to have an advocate, and a friend.

 5. Mr. Hugh Kissel

    Hugh Kissel had practiced law for close to twenty years before his embarrassing disbarment. It was a scandal that crumbled the life he knew into tiny pebbles, ending his career as a lawyer as well as his marriage. His wife divorced him two years later and then took the kids to another state. He hadn''t seen his daughters ever since and just that was enough to break his heart. His own inability to keep it in his pants was his demise. He knew it, which was the entire reason he never challenged his disbarment. He confessed to what he had done and begged the bar association for compassion and leniency. He got neither.


    Despite the fact that it was only noon never stopped Hugh from cracking open a new bottle of Jack Daniels, mixing it up with some ice cold coke classic, and drank it while watching episodes of Maury. He loved the episodes where they did DNA tests to see which guy this slut slept with was the true father of her baby. He was laughing and having a good time when there was an unexpected knock at the front door. Hugh muted the television.


    "I''m not interested!" he called out.


    "Open the door, we need to talk." A voice called back.


    "I don''t want to accept Jesus, so fuck off!" Hugh called again.


    "Dammit, Hugh." The voice called again. "It''s Max, open the damn door already!"


    "Why the hell should I?" Hugh asked, not leaving his seat.


    "Because I brought lunch!" Max answered through the door. "I need some advice and you''re the only one I can trust."


    Hugh paused for a moment. "The door''s not locked. Come on in."


    Max sighed before opening the door and then locking it behind him before strolling into the living room.


    "You''re watching Maury again?" Max asked.


    Hugh paused the show again. "Whenever I see these people on this show and how fucked up their lives are, it always makes me feel a little bit better about myself."


    "I''ll keep that in mind." Max said as he set the large bag down on the coffee table. "We need to talk about a case."


    "It''s got to be a dozy if you''re bringing me lunch." Hugh said as he looked over at the bag. "Is that Popeye''s?"


    "That''s right." Max said as he started to take the food out of the bag. "I got two spicy sandwiches, Cajun fries and some gravy. But I need you to sign this first." Max pulled out a form from his pocket and handed it over to him.


    Hugh opened it and had an amused look on his face as he read it to himself, "I have to sign this?"


    "The judge has already ordered a gag on the case." Max explained. "I can''t talk to anyone about it, not even Janet unless they sign this and become a part of my team. I told the client that I need someone I trust to bounce ideas off. He signed it and now you need to or we can''t even start talking about anything."


    "Damn, this one sounds serious." Hugh said as he continued to read the form.


    "Dude," Max started, "This will seriously fuck you up."


    Hugh paused for a moment and could tell by the look in the young man''s face that he wasn''t bluffing. Curiosity was finally getting the best of the old lawyer.


    "Alright," Hugh said as he signed the papers. "Let''s get this out of the way. I''m not going to have to make any court appearances, do I?"


    "No," Max answered, "There''s a good chance this will never see the inside of a court room."


    "Okay, let''s start from the beginning." Hugh said as he turned the TV off. Maury and his tribe of losers were gonna have to wait.


    "Here''s the problem." Max said as he finished placing out the food for the both of them. "The client could potentially be a suspect in a murder case."


    "Potentially?" Hugh repeated, "What''s the problem?"


    "There was a car accident." Max answered.


    "How bad was it?" Hugh asked.


    "His face was seriously smashed up." Max continued.


    "That can''t be good." Hugh thought as he could see how that would prevent proper identification. "Fingerprints?"


    "Not in the system." Max added.


    "DNA?" Hugh asked.


    "No matches." Max said.


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    "Then why do they think he did it?" Hugh asked.


    "Because the bodies were found in his trunk." Max answered.


    "Bodies?" Hugh repeated, "As in plural?"


    "Two." Max confirmed.


    "And the accident is what exposed him?" Hugh pondered.


    "Wasn''t even his fault either," Max explained, "Our man got t-boned when some dumbass ran a red light."


    "Just like Dalmer," Hugh said as he chewed on some fries. "The police really got lucky here."


    "You have no idea." Max replied. "The two women were slender, blonde haired, bound with rope, and strangled to death. The red scarf that was used to kill them was still around one of their necks."


    Upon hearing that, Hugh jumped up from his couch. His face was one of shock and disbelief. The moment he heard those details, he knew exactly what kind of person they were talking about.


    "Don''t you fucking kid about that!" Hugh said as he sat up in his seat. "How do you it was a red silk scarf?"


    "I saw it in the photos," Max explained, "A special agent from the FBI showed them to me this morning."


    Max was eating his food as he gave Hugh a chance to digest the news he was just given. He paced the room and cursed a lot as he finally realized how big this case was and who they were dealing with. He had started to regret sighing that piece of paper already.


    "Are they sure about this?" Hugh asked, "That it was actually a red silk scarf?"


    "They''re pretty sure," Max confirmed, "Like I said before, the police found the scarf still wrapped around one of the girl''s necks. There''s no doubt what and who we might be dealing with here."


    "Son of a bitch!" Hugh cursed again as he picked up his chicken sandwich and started nibbling on it as he continued to pace around the room. "And you''ve been picked to represent this piece of shit?"


    "Pretty much," Max answered. "But that''s not the biggest problem with the case."


    "Well, I can see you''re unable to identify him." Hugh said, as he remembered seeing John Doe written on the piece of paper he signed. "Have you had a chance to talk to him?"


    "Yes, only once at the hospital." Max answered, "He''s a bit banged up from the accident but that''s where the next problem arises. He''s got no memory of it."


    "No memory of what?" Hugh asked.


    "Anything," Max replied. "He''s got no memory of anything prior to the accident, which happened almost two months ago. He was in a coma all this time, which is why I''m just getting it now. He remembers nothing."


    "Nothing?" Hugh repeated.


    "Not a damn thing," Max confirmed, "Not his childhood, his adult life, or even his own fucking name. It''s like someone just sucked every detail out of his head. Everything is just blank up there."


    "Now that''s a real curve." Hugh said, as he finally sat back down to chew on it and his sandwich at the same time. "Is he even competent to stand trial?"


    "He might not be and that''s the problem," Max said, as he began to explain his conversation in the judge''s chamber and their concerns; that a man who appears harmless could go back to killing gain should be somehow regain his memory. "There''s also a chance he might be innocent. The case is weak at best."


    "It''s got more holes than Swiss cheese." Hugh confirmed, pausing for a moment. "Are they offering this bugger a deal?"


    "If he voluntarily commits himself to a mental institution of their choosing, they''ll be no charges." Max answered. "Considering what this guy could be charged with; this is an amazing offer."


    "If this guy is guilty, this is a damn steal!" Hugh confirmed as he kept pacing. "I can see why you came to me. This is quite the conundrum you''re in, ethically I mean."


    "I got that," Max agreed. "What if this really is our killer?"


    "Then he''s a truly sick piece of shit," Hugh answered. "This man is wanted in over ten states! The most brutal killer since Ted Bundy himself and that''s saying something. I mean how many kills does the press say he''s likely responsible for?"


    "At least at least thirty that we know of," Max answered. He looked over some files on his I-pad, trying to google more information about the murders in question.


    "Let''s hope there''s no blonde haired nurses in the mental facility." Hugh said with a half hearted chuckle.


    "Right now he''s completely harmless," Max said, as he tried not to think about that detail. "He has no idea who or what he is and as far as the feds are concerned, they want it to stay that way. ''They don''t even know who this guy is."


    "And that''s why he''s called John Doe," Hugh said, as what he saw on the form made more sense now.


    "It''s standard procedure for all unidentified victims." Max answered as he sipped his soda pop. "It took four surgeries to repair his face so no one recognizes him. He''s a complete unknown. If he never gets his memory back, we''ll never be able to identify him."


    Hugh wandered over to the window and peered out of it. "When did this accident happen again?"


    "Almost two months ago." Max answered. "He was in a coma up until a few days ago."


    "Let me guess," Hugh started as his brilliant brain was finally in full gear. "There hasn''t been a single killing since our friend landed himself in the hospital."


    "Not one." Max confirmed.


    "That also doesn''t bode well for our friend here." Hugh said.


    "Is what they''re doing legal?" Max asked. "They''ve kept all this from the press this whole time. Charges haven''t even been laid and the judge has gagged it already."


    "I can see why," Hugh replied as he thought about, "They''re afraid that the public might riot if they find out we''re considering giving one of this nation''s worst serial killers a free pass. There are a lot of families out there that would flip out if they found out about any of this. The press would do round the clock coverage of it and this town would be a media circus as long as he''s here."


    "No shit, don''t think I haven''t thought about it." Max said, as that worried him as well. "I have four people in the media that would kiss my feet if I tipped them off about this."


    "Don''t you fucking dare," Hugh said as he turned back from the window. "We need to keep this super quiet, especially if your guy is going to take that deal."


    "What should we do next?" Max asked his friend.


    "We need to speak to the client." Hugh answered. "I need to see him for myself."


    "Why?" Max asked.


    "To authenticate his story," Hugh replied, "No one can bluff me at the poker table. If this bastard is faking, I should be able to tell. We need to speak with him again."


    "I''m going back tomorrow morning." Max answered. "I can pick you up before I go over."


    "Alright," Hugh said as sat back in his couch and continued eating. "Tell me more about this deal they''re offering."

 6. Not A Damn Clue

    When Max left Hugh''s place a few hours later, it was just about the usual time he would take off from work to pick Janet up. He drove over to the school where his wife worked, and students had left about a half hour prior to his arrival. He could tell from the look on her face that Janet had a long day, which only convinced him further that going out for dinner was the right decision because neither of them were in the mood to cook anything. After she slipped into the front passenger seat, Max leaned over and gave her a quick kiss, to make her feel better.


    "Hey you," Janet said.


    "Hey yourself," Max said, as he watched her close the door. "Looks like you had a long day."


    "It was pretty much the same old, same old." Janet answered, sighing as she put her seat belt on. "How about you?"


    "It was a fucking shit show." Max said, not really wanting to talk about it for various reasons.


    "Define shit show, Max." Janey inquired.


    "I was given a new case," Max said, sighing deeply. "And it has the potential to be huge. It could end tomorrow or last a few years."


    "What?!" Janet said, as she sat up now that he had her attention. "Did you remind Dave about our pending vacation?"


    "I sure did," Max said, as he pulled back onto the road. "He didn''t seem to care, and when I got the courthouse I could tell why."


    "What kind of case are we talking about?" Janet asked.


    "I''m not allowed to tell you." Max answered.


    "What?" Janet said, rather surprised. "Are you telling me that there''s already a gag order in place?"


    "Affirmative," Max answered. "Only myself and select team members are allowed to even discuss it. I spoke with Hugh about it this afternoon after I got our new client to sign off on him."


    "Well, I''ll say this much," Janet started, "If there''s anyone who knows how to handle a shit storm, it would be Hugh."


    "I know, right?" Max said, as she knew what he was thinking.


    "What did he say?" Janet asked. She was well aware of how rarely he turned to the old man for help, which told her how serious this case probably was.


    "There''s a deal on the table," Max answered, "Hugh thinks we should take it and run before anyone changes their minds."


    "So, that''s why it could end tomorrow." Janet said, as it all started to make sense to her.


    "I can''t tell you anymore than that." Max said as he suddenly became tight lipped.


    Neither of them said a word to one another until Max pulled the car into the parking lot in front of Wally''s Diner. It wasn''t a very classy place, but it was where Max and Janet had their first date, so the place was nostalgic for them.


    "You still okay coming here tonight?" Max asked.


    "Yes, I think we both need it." Janet said as she gave her husband a big hug. "Are you alright?"


    "Yeah, I''ll be okay," Max said as he stepped out of the car. He walked over and opened Janet''s door for her.


    While the food was fantastic, but the conversation was disturbingly quiet. Both of them had a rough day, to the point where neither wanted to discuss it that much and just enjoy a little peace and quiet at the table with some decent grub. Yet Janet could tell by how Max ate his meal that he was very distracted, which caused her to break the silence.


    "You know," Janet said between bites, "I can tell when you''re upset about something."


    "How so?" Max asked.


    "First of all, you''re so damn quiet." Janet answered. "Usually when things are fine, you could talk the head off of four inch nails. When something is bothering you, silence is all we get from someone who is pretty much paid to talk."


    "I''m sorry," Max said, as he didn''t mean to be like that. "I just have a lot on my mind. I promise to make a better effort to..."


    Before he could say anything else, his cell phone started to ring. He looked down it and answered it.


    "Hello?" he said into the small device.


    Janet was going getting ready to lecture him on how answering the phone at the table was bad manners, but suddenly her husband''s eyes opened as wide a saucers and she knew something bad was happening.


    "Remove him from the room. I''ll be right there." Max turned off his phone and looked up at Janet. "I''m sorry, this is an emergency."


    "What''s going on?" Janet asked.


    "I can''t tell you," Max said as he fished into his pocket and tossed four twenties on the table. "We got to leave, now!"


    Max followed as many traffic laws as possible but it still took him about twenty minutes to drive over to the hospital he had visited earlier that day. He parked and didn''t even open the door for Janet as he went into mad dash into the hospital. Janet locked up and followed as quickly as she could. As she entered into the hallway she could hear people screaming and swearing at each other at the top of their lungs. She was stunned to see her husband, nose to nose with the countySheriff, ripping him a new asshole.


    "I don''t know who the fuck you think you are, Counselor." The big, burly Sheriff yelled. "But I have every right to question this man! I don''t give a fuck what you think!"


    "You stupid, ignorant, red necked piece of shit!" Max roared back, as he pushed the Sheriff against the wall. "This man has retained council, which means you cannot even ask him what he wants in his fucking coffee without having me present!"


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    The Sheriff eyes bulged so much you thought they were going to pot out of his face. "How dare you talk to me like that!"


    The Sheriff tried to shove Max but the security guards got between them and wrestled the two apart.


    "I want this man out of here, right now!" Max screamed at the two guards.


    "I''m the Sheriff of this town!" the big man yelled back. "You can''t tell me where I can or can''t be in this fucking town!"


    "Oh yeah?" Max said as he continued to stand up to the big man. "How about I file a restraining order to keep you away from my client? How does 200 feet in all directions sound? Given the sensitivity of the situation, I had no doubt the judge will grant it."


    "How about I tip the press to who we have in there?" the Sheriff then cussed back. "What do you think of those apples?"


    "There''s a reason why this case is gagged, you stubborn son of a bitch!" Max screamed back at him, "If this goes public, every person in the state, possibly the entire country will see it. My client will be on every news channel, twenty-four hours a day for the next two to five months. How the hell are we going to find an impartial jury of his peers after that? Do really you want to watch this guy walk on a technicality, as free as a fucking bird?"


    The Sheriff could tell his bluff had been called. "Of course not."


    "For a man who enforces it, you don''t have a damn clue how the law works!" Max said, pointing an accusing finger at the big man. "Regardless of what goes through your pea sized brain, this man is innocent until proven guilty. You will show in the same respect that everyone else who''s come through this county receives. Are we clear on that, Sheriff?"


    The Sheriff didn''t like what he was hearing, but nodded. "We are."


    "Then shut your god damn mouth!" Max said as he looked angry enough to slap him across the face. "And get the fuck out of here!" the Sheriff paused for a moment but Max stamped his foot into the floor and pointed to the door. "Now!!"


    "Please, Sir." The guard asked the sheriff as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "He''s right. You have to go."


    The Sheriff took a deep breath and slowly began to walk down the hall with the guard.


    "What now?" the other guard asked as he and Max watched the Sheriff leave the hospital.


    "You watch this door." Max ordered as he peeked through the door leading to John''s room. "No one comes in here unless they''re hospital staff. Absolutely no one; we clear?"


    "Yes, Sir." The guard answered.


    Janet walked up to Max after the Sheriff had left and put a hand on his shoulder.


    "Are you alright, hun?" she asked.


    "I''ll be fine." Max said as he turned to face her. "I need you to stay outside. You can''t come in right now."


    Janet nodded. "Alright, I''ll be over there in the waiting room."


    "Thank you," Max said, as he opened the door and walked inside.


    Max looked around the room and could tell that John''s bed was empty. There were two tubes lying on the bed and there was some blood on the bed as well. It was obvious that the catheter had been forcibly removed, likely when John decided to run. Max looked around and could tell that John wasn''t anywhere in the room. He paused for a moment and then walked over to the bathroom door, which was closed and likely locked from the inside. Max softly knocked on the bathroom door.


    "John, are you in there?" Max called out. He waited for a moment, but there was no response. "John, it''s Max. You''re going to be alright."


    "Is he gone?" John''s voice called from inside.


    "Yes, I made sure that dumb ass Sheriff was tossed out." Max answered, "Open the door so the staff can check you over."


    "Will you stay with me?" John asked.


    "I''m not going anywhere," Max replied, "I promise."


    Max waited for a few moments and then the lock clicked and the door began to slowly open. John was bleeding a bit from ripping his catheter out, but other than that he seemed to be all right. He could barely stay on his feet and almost fell over, but Max caught him in time. A few nurses came into the room and helped Max carry John back to his bed after they did a quick change of his bed sheets. Max put the new sheets over his legs once he was back in bed.


    "You alright, John?" he asked.


    "I am now," John said, "What the hell is wrong with him?"


    "I''m not sure," Max answered, "But he''s not going to be a problem anymore."


    "How can you be that sure?" John asked.


    "The guards know he''s not allowed in here," Max added, "I will be calling the judge first thing in the morning to make sure he gives the Sheriff a good telling off about it. I''ll probably also ask for a restraining order from his honor as well."


    "I could hear screaming in the hallway." John said as he tried to get comfortable. "I couldn''t make out what was being said. Was that you out there?"


    "It was," Max said as he pulled a chair over and took a seat. "When I told you I was a vigorous defender, I wasn''t kidding."


    "I can see that," John said as he couldn''t help but smile. "Remind me to never to piss you off."


    "Nice to see you learned something today," Max said, as he returned the smile and managed to relax. "Can you tell me what happened before I got here?"


    "Well, that Sheriff came storming in and starting pushing me around." John said. "He didn''t believe that I had no memory and kept insisting that I tell him the truth."


    "Then what happened?" Max asked.


    "That''s when the guard came in and dragged the Sheriff into the hallway." John replied. "The Sheriff came back in one more time and after two guards dragged him out, I removed the tubes and hid in the bathroom until you got here."


    "Alright," Max said as he patted John''s good leg. "You did good here, John. I''m very sorry you had to go through that."


    "Thanks for coming over." John said as he kept shuffling to get comfortable.


    "Well, you settle down here." Max said as he stood up. "I need to speak to someone outside. I''ll be right back."


    Max left the room and walked down the hall to the waiting room where Janet was patiently waiting for him.


    "Hey," Janet called out, getting off the couch. "Are you okay?"


    Max smiled back at her, "I was going to ask the same thing."


    "What the hell was that about?" Janet asked.


    "I''m sorry you had to see that," Max said as he felt a little embarrassed by how he conducted himself. "The Sheriff has a habit of thinking he can do anything he wants. I hate it when self-righteous pricks like him think that the law doesn''t apply to them."


    "I can tell," Janet said as she understood. "Now what?"


    Max replied by handing her the car keys. "You''re going to head home and get some sleep. I''m going to stay here."


    "Are you sure about that?" his wife asked.


    "My client is a little rattled," Max replied, "I think it would be best to make sure someone is around to make sure things don''t get any worse than they already have."


    "I''m a little scared," Janet said as she took the keys from him. "Who exactly do you have in there?"


    "What do you mean?" Max asked her.


    "You said that if the Sheriff leaked this case to the press that every network would cover it for months." Janet recalled. "What kind of person would warrant that kind of coverage?"


    "I can''t tell you," Max said as he was clearly frustrated. "What I can tell you is that this guy is just like everyone else. He''s an American, which means he has rights. If I don''t defend him, the system breaks down and that would impinge upon everyone."


    Janet smiled. "I think it''s very sexy when you get all hot and bothered about people''s constitutional rights."


    "I know," Max said as he finally was able to laugh. "We''ll talk about it later when there isn''t a threat of jail time or disbarment hanging over my head. In the meantime, I need you to go home."


    "Okay." Janet said, hugging her husband. "Please be careful."


    "I will, promise." Max said as he hugged her back. He watched his wife walk out of the hospital and a bad feeling in his gut that it was going to be a very long night.

 7. The Morning Comes

    Max had fallen asleep in the chair that was located next to Max¡¯s bed. He wasn¡¯t asleep very long when there was a soft kick that jolted him awake. Max looked up and it was the district attorney from the meeting at the judge¡¯s office, Aaron Willis. He was wearing an even sharper looking suit, and had a golden smile that suggested he would be running for his bosses job sooner rather than later.


    ¡°Good morning, Sheppard.¡± Aaron said.


    Max sat up and rubbed his eyes. ¡°What time is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s close to eight in the morning.¡± Aaron answered, ¡°How¡¯s he doing?¡±


    ¡°Not bad,¡± Max said as he checked on his client who was still out like a light. ¡°Let¡¯s go talk in the hallway.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Willis said as he watched Max get out of the chair and lead the way out.


    Once in the hallway, Max could tell by the look on the DA¡¯s face that word of what happened at the hospital the night before had gotten back to him.


    ¡°What exactly happened here last night?¡± Aaron demanded.


    ¡°The hot tempered Sheriff came here with a bad chip on his shoulder and started harassing my client.¡± Max answered. ¡°He roughed the guy up and tired to get him to admit to something he doesn¡¯t even remember.¡±


    ¡°God damn it,¡± Aaron cussed. ¡°This is all going to blow up in our faces if we¡¯re not careful.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it gets better.¡± Max replied. ¡°The Sheriff threatened to leak everything to the press and expose what¡¯s going on.¡±


    Max could tell this was something he hadn¡¯t heard about yet as Willis¡¯ eyes widened a bit at the thought of this getting out.


    ¡°We need to speak with the judge about this.¡± Aaron declared.


    ¡°Funny you should say that,¡± Max replied, ¡°I was thinking the exact same thing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll set something up,¡± The DA said, sighing deeply as he wasn¡¯t in the mood for this shit. ¡°Here¡¯s my card, and my cell number is on the back. If anything like this happens again, please give me a call and I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±


    Max took the card from Aaron. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    Willis paused for a moment as he looked inside the room through the small window. ¡°It¡¯s amazing how close we are and yet so far away.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Max asked.


    ¡°The FBI has been hunting for the Reaper for the better part of five years.¡± Willis answered, ¡°There¡¯s a fifty-fifty chance the man inside that room is our guy.¡±


    ¡°I can understand their frustration,¡± Max said, ¡°But what is the reason for yours?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have skin in this game,¡± Aaron replied, ¡°I just want to make sure that none of the political fall out lands around here. The last thing we want to do is be the town that let him slip through our fingers.¡±


    ¡°We still have to be so careful,¡± Max reminded the ambitious DA, ¡°We have to be sure we really have the right guy here.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to lecture me about that.¡± Aaron agreed, ¡°I¡¯ve seen my fair share of incorrect arrests and prosecutions. The whole reason law enforcement withholds certain details from the media is so that we can actually authenticate a confession. It prevents disturbed people from trying to distract us from our investigation because they want to fame and glory.¡±


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    ¡°Right now we have no way to authenticate if this is really him.¡± Max said, as he knew where things stood. ¡°The last thing you want is this guy to walk away from it all free and clear.¡±


    ¡°Have you talked to him about the deal?¡± Willis asked.


    ¡°I skimmed over it with him.¡± Max informed him, ¡°John asked for time to think about it. I was going to get into more details about it after breakfast.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate your efforts.¡± Willis said as he never took his eyes off the small window, ¡°As much as I¡¯d love to see the feds take this guy away and lock him up for the rest of his life, I¡¯m sure they can settle for him just being off the street and not killing anymore. If the slate is really clean and he doesn¡¯t remember anything, than the killer they¡¯ve been looking for might truly gone.¡±


    Max paused for a moment. ¡°There hasn¡¯t been a single killing since the accident, has there?¡±


    ¡°Not one.¡± Willis answered. ¡°As far as we know, the three in his trunk were the last people reported missing. According to that Agent Wilson fellow, they fit the M.O. perfectly, right down to their hair colour.¡±


    ¡°They probably know more about this guy than anyone in the country.¡± Max assumed.


    ¡°They do,¡± Aaron replied with a grin. ¡°Wilson was one of the agents that constructed his profile. He said they actually almost had him in Portland, but he slipped away. After that the closest we got to him was when we got a report of a blue car leaving Florida, the same one we found here. It¡¯s pretty damn compelling.¡±


    ¡°But all circumstantial.¡± Max pointed out.


    ¡°I know,¡± Willis conceded. ¡°Like I said before, the killing has stopped. He might not spend a day behind bars, but women around the country are a lot safer today then they were a few months ago.¡±


    ¡°I heard he had a type.¡± Max said as he recalled some of the research he did the day before.


    ¡°He does,¡± Aaron confirmed, ¡°Tell me councilor, do you see any blondes in this hospital?¡±


    Max had to really think about it. The two times he had visited this hospital this week, he couldn¡¯t remember seeing a single one. ¡°No¡­ now that you mention it, I haven¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because the feds ordered every blonde haired woman on staff here to dye their hair.¡± Willis answered. ¡°I thought he was being unreasonable, but Wilson said it was for their safety. When you put it that way, offer to pay all expenses, and have it done at a professional saloon along with manicures and lunch on the agency, how could they refuse?¡±


    ¡°How could any woman?¡± A voice called out from behind them.


    Max turned to see that Hugh had arrived. He was wearing a suit but didn¡¯t have a tie and the dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top. Max had asked Hugh to take a cab to the hospital since he didn¡¯t have a car to bring him in.


    ¡°Thanks for coming in,¡± Max said, turning back to face Agent Wilson, ¡°Mr. Willis, this is my partner in this case; Hugh Kessel.¡±


    ¡°The very same Hugh Kessel that defended Ryan Jackson?¡± Aaron asked, surprised to hear the name.


    ¡°The very same,¡± Hugh replied as he shook the agent¡¯s hand.


    ¡°I thought you were disbarred.¡± Aaron then added.


    Hugh smiled. ¡°I¡¯m just a legal consultant. I don¡¯t work in the courtroom anymore. Max asked for my help considering the legal paradox we¡¯re dealing with here.¡±


    ¡°And what is your opinion?¡± Willis then asked.


    ¡°I think our client, Mr. Doe, should take this deal and run before anyone changes their damn mind.¡± Hugh answered. ¡°It¡¯s the deal of the century, especially if this really is ¡­¡±


    ¡°Not out loud,¡± Max said as he interrupted, ¡°Especially if he can hear us.¡±


    ¡°You guys haven¡¯t told him anything?¡± Hugh asked.


    ¡°What¡¯s the point?¡± The young DA asked. ¡°Like you said, he¡¯s getting the deal of the century. The last thing we want to do is provoke a recall. The less he knows about his past, the better.¡±


    ¡°The fact that he might be innocent is also the reason.¡± Max added. ¡°There¡¯s no point telling him anything unless we can prove it. For all we know he might have stolen that car and had no idea of what was in the trunk. There are too many holes in this case, or what I like to call it: reasonable doubt.¡±


    ¡°I get it.¡± Willis said as he backed away. ¡°I hope the client takes your advice. I¡¯d like to clean this up and get him out of town to a proper mental facility as soon as possible, preferably one out of mine and that Sheriff¡¯s jurisdiction.¡±


    ¡°Amen to that.¡± Hugh agreed as he opened the door. ¡°Shall we?¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Max said as he walked in behind his friend.

 8. A Dozen Donuts

    As Max and Hugh walked into John''s room, the patient was awake and reading a newspaper. As both men took a seat, Max looked at his client with curiosity.


    "You remember how to read?" Max asked.


    "A little," John confessed. "On occasion I come across some big words that I don''t understand. It''s getting better at it but it can be frustrating sometimes."


    "I can only imagine." Max said, as he waited for Hugh to come in a take a seat. "John, this is a close friend of mine. His name is Hugh Kessel, and I''ve asked him to consult with me on this case. He used to be an attorney, and I respect his opinion a great deal."


    "Then so do I," John said as he extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you Mr. Kessel."


    Hugh paused for a moment and then stepped forward and shook John''s hand. "I hear you''re in the middle of a real legal quagmire, Mr. Doe. Something a lot of us have never dealt with before."


    "That''s an understatement." John confirmed. He then looked over at the box that Hugh brought with him. "What''s that?"


    "Oh, this?" Hugh said, as he gestured at a box. "I brought some donuts in a shop down the street. I thought you guys might be a little peckish. Would you like one, John?"


    "I guess," John said, as Hugh handed him the box. Inside the small box were a dozen donuts, all various flavors. John took a look inside the box and then back up at the two men watching.


    "Are you alright?" Max asked him.


    "You don''t like them?" Hugh asked.


    John sat there looking at them. "I can''t remember. I don''t even know if I like any of these."


    John closed the box and handed it back to Max.


    "They don''t look that appealing," John said, laying back on his bed. He didn''t seem remotely interested in the box. "Do you guys like them?"


    "I''m a sucker for powdered ones myself." Max admitted.


    "I''m on a diet," Hugh replied.


    "I''ll wait for the nurse to bring my breakfast." John said, "But thanks for the gesture. It was very kind of you."


    Hugh took the box back from John and tossed it aside. He then opened one of the file folders he brought with him.


    "Let''s talk business then," Hugh started, "What we need to realize is that this deal is pretty much a get out of jail free card. The district attorney''s case is pretty weak to begin with because they can''t identify Mr. Doe here. We could even have the entire case dismissed based on the grounds that you''re not fit to stand trial."


    "How am I not fit?" John asked.


    "In order to be fit to stand trial, you have to be aware of the charges that are being placed against you." Max replied. "Because your mind is a blank slate, you do not have the ability to remember or understand what they''re charging you with."


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    "What difference does that make?" John asked.


    "A world of difference," Hugh answered, "Without any memory of the day in question, you cannot deny or confirm the events in question. This means you''re also unable to present any kind of defense as well, and many consider that a denial of a fair trial."


    "I never though of it like that," John admitted.


    "Since you have no recollection at all," Max continued, "It''s like you''re a completely different person. It would almost be like charging an innocent person because you have no memory of anything. We have more than enough to file for a dismissal and we might get it."


    "That''s why they''re worried?" John asked.


    "Exactly," Hugh confirmed, "That''s why they are offering this great deal, and it''s also the reason why you should take it."


    "Really?" John asked.


    "Really," Max concurred.


    "It''s a gift," Hugh replied. "There will be no charges, no record. All you have to do is get psychological treatment that most people pay tons money to get, but yours will be high quality and on the taxpayer''s dime. Max and I will make sure you get sent to an amazing facility with a staff that will take great care of you. This ends everything right now, and gets everyone off your back."


    "But you just said we could get the case dismissed." John said as he was a little more than confused.


    "That''s possible." Max said as he stepped in. "But there''s never a guarantee we''re going to get it."


    "That''s what deal is," Hugh said, "A guarantee that this goes away, quickly. No trial, no mess. It all just disappears like it never happened."


    John could easily understand what they were saying. "Okay, where do I sign?"


    "We haven''t done all the paperwork yet." Max admitted, "But it should be done and ready to sign within a few days. Alright?"


    "Understood," John said as he gave a mini salute. "Just make sure I get sent somewhere that sheriff can''t visit me."


    "Oh, we''ll make sure of that." Hugh said, as he patted John on the shoulder.


    "In the meantime, I say nothing?" John asked.


    "That''s right." Max said as he stood up and patted his client on the shoulder. "If you remember anything or want to talk, just tell the guard and I''ll be here as soon as I can."


    "Thanks, Max," John said as he shook his lawyer''s hand.


    Before Max could reply, there was a loud knock at the door. Agent Wilson stuck his head in. Based on the look he had on his face, the fed didn''t look very happy.


    "I need to speak with both of you, now." He then scowled at Hugh. "Bring the box."


    Hugh closed up his files and then grabbed the box of donuts.


    "They''re not good for you, anyway." Hugh said with a wink as he walked out of the room with Max.


    Once the two of them were outside, Agent Wilson walked over and aggressively took the box of donuts away from him.


    "What the hell is wrong with you?" Wilson quickly asked.


    "What?" Max quickly asked, as he was in the dark about what was going on. "I have no idea what are you talking about."


    "He''s talking about this," Hugh said, gesturing to the box.


    "You''re damn right I am!" Wilson said.


    "Slow down and talk to me," Max asked, "What''s going on?"


    "The Reaper was a big fan of donuts," Wilson said, opening the box. He sighed deeply as he held up a Boston cream, "Especially this one; what the hell were you thinking?"


    "It was a test," Hugh said with a sly grin.


    "A test?" Max repeated.


    Wilson did a quick count. "They''re all still here."


    "He didn''t want any of them." Hugh answered. "Not even subconsciously. This guy has really lost every marble in his head."


    "That being said," Wilson said, as he tossed the entire box into the trash can beside him. "Please don''t dangle any more marbles in front of him which could possibly cause him to recall his past."


    "We''ll do our best," Max promised as he looked over a Hugh. "This was the only time we''ll attempt something like that. It appears on the surface, however, that my client doesn''t seem to be faking his amnesia."


    "It appears so," Wilson concurred, "Is he going to take the deal?"


    "It sure looks that way," Max replied. "We should have papers submitted within a few days to the court. When he''s ready, we''ll transfer him to whatever facility we agree to send him to."


    "I still can''t believe it''s over." Wilson said as he sighed.


    "Not everything can end in a blaze of glory." Hugh said, shooting a glare of his own at agent Wilson. The fed didn''t respond and simply walked away.


    "What the hell was that about?" Max asked, somewhat curious.


    "You don''t want to know." Hugh replied.


    "Fair enough," Max said as he walked away. He had paperwork to file and wanted this case over with as soon as possible.

 9. Getting Out Of Dodge

    As Max had promised, it took less than a few days for him and Hugh to complete the paperwork before submitting it to the courts. Prosecutors and even the feds looked over it for a few days before agreeing to it and signing it. As much as they wanted to nail John to the wall and bleed him for every drop of justice they could get, they fully understood that a trail would be costly to the taxpayers. As Max had also pointed out, he could have won the man his freedom and that would have upset the public even more. The idea of spending that kind money just to watch the bastard walk because of a technicality would have caused riots in the streets. This was the right way to go, the safest route for all involved. The deal would send him to a psychiatric facility to monitor his progress as a new man was better than nothing. If the killing stopped, that would make it a price worth paying.


    The judge refused to lift the gag order and emphasized to all parties, especially the Sheriff, that any breach or leak of this deal would meet with sweeping, devastating sanctions. The judge also threatened to resign his bench just so he could lead the prosecution of those who breached it himself. That was a serious threat as the judge used to be a prosecutor, so everyone knew he meant every word of it. Even the Sheriff understood that he was dead serious and had no intention of breaking any of the rules his honour had just leveed upon them all. His honor was also adamant about the fact that if even a whisper of this got to the press and the deal they made, the mob would no doubt call for all of them to resign. So for the protection of the people as well as their own careers, this case would remain under seal and remain that way for a very long time if the judge had his way. Nothing stays a secret forever, but the hope was that no one would find out the truth about the Reaper until almost all parties were involved had passed on.


    Max had no intention of breathing a word of what he had just done, as well as the deal he just negotiated. There was a part of him that was ashamed that he even defended someone who could be so evil, but at the same time, John wasn''t that man. The person who committed those horrible crimes was gone and not murdering women anymore. As long as it remained that way, John has a very good chance of making a very valuable contribution to society. It was everyone''s hope that his memory never returned as society was safer for it. The feds were determined to make sure John was monitored so it never did happen, making sure their man was watched during his stay at the mental facility they had agreed to.


    John remained at the hospital for a few more weeks as the doctors wanted to make sure he had a few more tests before being released. Max and Hugh arrived early that morning to pick up their client. Both men were wearing clothing that was less formal. Max had blue jeans and a t-shirt while Hugh had kakis and a tie free dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, which was about as casual as Hugh preferred to be. John was there in the room, sitting in a wheel chair as they walked into the room.


    "What''s wrong with your legs?" Hugh asked.


    "Nothing," John answered, "The staff insists this is a tradition, so I don''t want to rock the boat. Not after how nice they''ve all been."


    "That''s not a bad idea." Max said as he got behind the wheel chair and grabbed both arms. "You all packed and ready to go?"


    "Just one bag," John replied, "I don''t have anything else."


    "I''ll grab it." Hugh said as he walked over and picked up the light bag without any trouble.


    "What about anything I was wearing at the accident?" John asked.


    "I''m afraid the courts are keeping it all as evidence." Max replied, "I checked the stuff myself, there was nothing of real value there and since you have no memory it''s all just useless junk. Most of it was badly damaged in the accident."


    "We can replace it for you." Hugh also offered. "Just make a list and we''ll make sure to bring it on our first visit as long as it''s approved by the medical facility."


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    "Thanks," John replied, "For that and offering to visit."


    "It''s not a problem." Max said.


    "We''re not going to forget about you." Hugh also added. "We''ll be visiting often to make sure you''re being treated well and in accordance with our agreement."


    "I also appreciate that," John said as he watched them pull the wheel chair out through the hospital''s main doors.


    "Is something wrong?" Max asked.


    "No," John answered. "This is just the first time I''ve been outside since the accident. Can I take a moment to enjoy it?"


    "Just a moment," Hugh answered, "You can walk from here to our car over there."


    As John started to walk towards the car on his own, Hugh grabbed Max by the arm and pulled him closer. "If he runs, you''re going after him. I stopped my sprinting a long time ago."


    "No need to worry." Max whispered back, "There are agents in the trees over there so if he tries to run, Wilson will have him in less than a minute."


    "Not very trusting, that man." Hugh observed.


    "Wilson prefers the term cautious." Max countered, "There will be a few cars also following us to the hospital. They''ll be keeping their distance, but we have to remain on the approved route at all times."


    "He''s not cautious," Hugh said with a huff. "That man has OCD."


    "You guys coming?" John called out to them. "I don''t remember how to drive and considering how I got here, I don''t want to."


    "Good call." Max called back as they walked to the car.


    "I want barbecue for lunch." Hugh said as he opened the door.


    "We''ll see." Max said as he got into the driver''s side.


    Once they were in the car, Hugh didn''t hesitate to strap himself in and then turn to his driver. "Let''s get the fuck out of Dodge, shall we?"


    "What does that mean?" John asked.


    Hugh sighed as he realized how blank that man''s mind really was.


    "The term was made popular by a western called Gunsmoke." Hugh replied, "It was making reference to Dodge City, Kansas. That used to be the town that was made popular by famous lawman like Wyatt Earp. Criminals were often urged to get the hell out of Dodge before the law caught up with them, which happened often if you dared to cross Marshall Earp, who was the most feared lawman in the west."


    "Why was he so feared?" John asked as Max was pulling them out of the hospital parking lot.


    "Because he was the best," Hugh answered for him. "He took part in countless gunfights, and never got hit once. He never lost either."


    "Thank goodness he was on our side." Max said.


    "If Earp was an outlaw, he would have been infamous." Hugh concurred, "Bigger than Billy the Kid or Jesse James. Instead he chose to enforce the law rather than break it."


    "His father was a Justice of the Peace," Max added, "So that would explain why a lot of the Earps were lawmen, as they were pretty much spoon fed the law as they were growing up."


    "Considering the Sheriff they have here." John said as he looked back at the hospital. "I''m all for getting out of Dodge."


    Hugh laughed. "Ain''t that the damn truth!"


    "Are we allowed to have real food on the way there?" John asked, "It would be nice to sit down and eat out before checking in."


    "There''s a rib place on the way," Hugh informed them. "I made sure our approve route went that way."


    "You''re right, Hugh." Max said, as he was checking the car''s GPS system. "There''s Bob''s Rib joint on the way up. We''ll go there for lunch."


    "Nice," Hugh said as he looked back at John and smiled. "I''ve been there a few times; you''re in for a treat."


    "Sounds good to me," John said, trying to be polite. He had no idea if he would like them or not but was willing to try anything with the two men that were being so nice to him.


    "The food there is great, and it''s a good spot to stop." Max said, "It''s about halfway to the facility and we can use it to eat, pee and fill the tank. Wilson should be alright with it.


    As Max was driving towards the highway, he looked in his side mirror to confirm he was being followed. The small pack of black SUVs that were following looked rather clich¨¦ and right out of a TV show. Max almost chuckled at the sight of them, and even wondered if they feds got a discount if they bought enough of them with that bloated budget that was footed by the taxpayers. The cars following him didn''t need to get too close as Max also allowed them to plant a tracker onto his car. Wilson had appreciated their co-operation, but Max was just doing it to appease the man''s paranoia. Max also knew the car was bugged, so when he made lunch plans clear it was his way of informing Wilson a few cars back what they had planned. Wilson would probably speed ahead and scope the place out before they got there. He also promised the agent that no alcohol would be consumed at lunch. Max had no intention of messing with him or the FBI. When Max and Hugh finally got John to the mental facility later that day, it would all be over for Max. he would be finally able to go on vacation with his wife. He was excited, because soon this entire ordeal would be behind him; at least for now.

 10. Visiting Hours

    John was sitting there in his chair, looking at the picture that the doctor was holding up. He was asked to say the first thing that came to his mind but was struggling to come up with anything. Usually he had no problem doing these tests, but that particular day he just wasn¡¯t in the mood to participate. He held up a hand and basically waved her off.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± John said as he rubbed his temple, ¡°I¡¯m just not in the mood to do exercises right now.¡±


    ¡°Are you alright, John?¡± the doctor asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been moody lately,¡± John replied quickly, ¡°I¡¯ve been feeling antsy. I¡¯ve been here for almost a year and the walls are starting to make me feel a little claustrophobic. It¡¯s really bringing me down. I¡¯m not mad about it. I guess a more realistic term would be bummed out.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate your honesty, John.¡± The doctor replied as she scribbled down some notes after she put the card with the picture away, ¡°Let¡¯s talk about this more.¡±


    ¡°I really wish we wouldn¡¯t.¡± John confessed.


    ¡°Maybe we should call it a day then.¡± The doctor said as she closed his work pad. She knew better than to push her luck.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± John said as he stood up, ¡°I¡¯ll put more effort into our next session.¡±


    The doctor help the door open for John and a big worker for the hospital stood there waiting for him, ¡°Take Mr. Doe back to his ward, he¡¯s done here for the day.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Dr. Lawson.¡± The orderly said as he waved an arm to show John the way.


    ¡°Thank you, Dr. Lawson.¡± John said as he left.


    ¡°It¡¯s my pleasure,¡± Dr. Lawson replied, ¡°I hope you¡¯re feeling better the next time we meet.¡±


    ¡°I do too.¡± John said as he finally left the room.


    Dr. Lawson waited for a moment after John left the room, closed the door and then proceeded to walk to the other end of the room and through another door that led to another room that was on the other side of a two way mirror. Inside the other room was Special Agent Wilson, who had been watching John¡¯s entire session.


    ¡°What do you think, Mr. Wilson?¡± the doctor asked.


    ¡°He seemed agitated,¡± Wilson replied, ¡°Has he shown any aggressive tendencies towards any of the staff or patients?¡±


    ¡°None,¡± Lawson replied, ¡°He¡¯s been a model patient.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still not taking any chances,¡± Wilson said as he looked back at the doctor, ¡°I¡¯d like to keep my undercover officers where they are. Since you¡¯re not paying for them it doesn¡¯t affect your budget. You¡¯re basically getting free workers.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this deception.¡± Lawson admitted, ¡°I don¡¯t care if these agents used to work in real medical wards prior to being here. The fact that we are being dishonest by having undercover FBI agents working in a mental ward is dangerous and could freak out all my patients.¡±


    ¡°Only if they find out,¡± Wilson said, ¡°And that only happens if John¡¯s memory returns to him.¡±


    ¡°It hasn¡¯t so far,¡± Lawson said as she sat down and sighed, ¡°The brain is a mysterious machine to us even today. We don¡¯t know exactly how it works and that scares a lot of people. He could have total recall tomorrow or he may never get back a single image for the rest of his life. It¡¯s basically a tossup at this point and I can¡¯t make any promises if it will come back.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want it to come back.¡± Wilson admitted.


    ¡°Ever?¡± Lawson asked.


    ¡°Preferably.¡± Wilson confirmed.


    ¡°Who is this man?¡± Lawson finally said as he stood back up and strolled up to Wilson to stare him down. ¡°What kind of man have you left here for us to take care of on our own?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say on your own,¡± Wilson corrected, ¡°Besides the agents I have inside here undercover, I have four outside that are always watching this place. All it takes is one call to have them all running in here with guns drawn.¡±


    ¡°Who is that man?¡± Lawson asked again, ¡°Or I guess the better question would be who do you think he is?¡±


    Wilson sighed, ¡°Do you remember the agreement we made about confidentiality?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± Lawson recalled, ¡°I won¡¯t tell a soul.¡±


    ¡°If any of this leaks,¡± Wilson said as he put a finger in the doctor¡¯s chest, ¡°I will make sure you do at least ten years hard time. We clear?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Lawson said as he was eager to know, ¡°Who is he?¡±


    Wilson took a deep breath. ¡°We think he¡¯s the Night Reaper.¡±


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    Lawson¡¯s eyes grew as wide as saucers. ¡°The Night Reaper?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Wilson confirmed.


    ¡°You moved a serial killer in here without fully informing us about it?¡± Lawson said as his face started to go a little red with anger.


    ¡°Calm down,¡± Wilson started, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you everything I know.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Lawson said as he sat down again, ¡°I want to know everything. Start at the beginning.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Wilson said as he also pulled up a chair and sat down, ¡°The accident that caused John to lose his memory is when we found something that made us suspect that he was our man. There were two bodies in the trunk, both strangled, and one of them still had the red scarf around her neck.¡±


    ¡°Standard M.O. for the Reaper.¡± Lawson added.


    ¡°Yes, it was.¡± Wilson said as he continued, ¡°When the accident took place, John happened to be driving away from Florida in a blue car that had been reported stolen from that state just the day before. The car was also taken less than a few blocks away from where one of the young woman found in the trunk was last seen. The body was killed in the exact manner that the others were, right down to the smallest detail. The only difference was he didn¡¯t get a chance to bury her yet. He was t-boned by some lady who wasn¡¯t looking where she was going. His car then went into a ditch and that¡¯s when John¡¯s face and memory were both destroyed along with any chance of identifying him. Based on what we found in the car and the circumstances, I¡¯m ninety percent sure this is our man. There hasn¡¯t been a single Reaper killing since the accident.¡±


    ¡°Then what the hell is he doing here?¡± Lawson asked, ¡°Why isn¡¯t he in maximum security?¡±


    ¡°You know that part: he doesn¡¯t remember anything,¡± Wilson answered, ¡°Not a single detail.¡±


    ¡°That does present a gauntlet of ethical issues.¡± Lawson admitted.


    ¡°Taking care of this legally in itself was a quagmire,¡± Wilson continued, ¡°Because we couldn¡¯t identify him and because he didn¡¯t remember anything, he didn¡¯t meet the standard to stand trial. Any public defender could have torn this case to shreds.¡±


    ¡°So you cut a deal?¡± Lawson asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Wilson said with a nod, ¡°No charges as long as he agreed to be sent here until cleared mentally fit for society.¡±


    ¡°Who else knows about this?¡± Lawson asked.


    ¡°Only a handful of people in the hick town where he was caught,¡± Wilson said, ¡°But most of all, John has no clue about it. All he thinks is someone was hurt in the accident. He doesn¡¯t even know about the bodies we found the trunk.¡±


    ¡°You think that¡¯s ethical?¡± Lawson asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care if it isn¡¯t,¡± Wilson said, ¡°The last thing I want is this man to recall every detail and then start killing people again. John is a nice guy. I¡¯ve talked to him several times. He¡¯s the kind of guy you¡¯d like to catch a ball game with. He¡¯s harmless. But deep down inside him is a beast; a monster that could be responsible for over a hundred homicides, all of them women. And those are just the ones that we found. We¡¯ve always suspected there are many more graves we haven¡¯t found yet.¡±


    ¡°Jesus,¡± Lawson said as he wiped his brow, ¡°What are we supposed to do with him? He¡¯s getting agitated and frustrated.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about that,¡± Wilson confessed, ¡°I think it¡¯s time we let him have a visitor.¡±


    ¡°Did you have any ideas?¡± Lawson asked.


    ¡°Just one,¡± Wilson answered.


    It was several days later that Wilson¡¯s idea was finally put to work. The man was invited and escorted by federal agents to the hospital under close watch. He was searched a few times and all the items he brought were looked over a few times before finally being approved. They did everything short of strip searching him, which to the visitor¡¯s relief wasn¡¯t necessary. When he finally strolled into the ward, Agent Wilson was there waiting for him on the other side.


    ¡°Hello, Mr. Sheppard,¡± Wilson said as he extended a hand for him to shake, ¡°I hope you had a good ride up?¡±


    ¡°It was fine,¡± Max said as he looked around, ¡°Did you have to be so thorough with your inspections?¡±


    ¡°You know more than anyone else why that¡¯s necessary.¡± Wilson said to him with a stern look on his face.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Max conceded, ¡°Where is he?¡±


    ¡°Outside,¡± Wilson confirmed, ¡°Dr. Lawson will take you out there where the both of you can talk without being interrupted.¡±


    Max followed the doctor outside and John was sitting at a picnic table and just enjoying the rays. There was a twenty foot fence around the yard so there was no chance for escape but this was a nice setting for them to finally sit down and talk.


    ¡°John!¡± Max called out as he approached the table.


    ¡°Max?¡± John said as he hopped up and walked over, giving his lawyer a big hug. ¡°You have no idea how good it is to see you!¡±


    ¡°I can imagine,¡± Max said as the two men parted and sat at opposite ends of the picnic table. ¡°So how have you been? Are you being treated well?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve been very friendly,¡± John answered, ¡°I¡¯ve been okay.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Max said as he took his lawyer tone, ¡°Because if anyone treats you badly or disrespects you, I want you to tell me so I can take care of it for you. Okay?¡±


    John smiled at the thought, ¡°Do you do this for all your clients?¡±


    ¡°Not all of them,¡± Max admitted, ¡°Just the ones I like.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯m very fortunate to be one of those,¡± John said with a smile as he looked around the yard, ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ve been out here by myself. It¡¯s so peaceful without the other patients.¡±


    ¡°I asked for that,¡± Max said, thinking on his feet. ¡°I wanted to make sure our privacy was respected. I lectured your Dr. Lawson about client confidentiality and she folded like a cheap suit.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s nice,¡± John admitted, ¡°But lately I¡¯ve been feel antsy like a caged animal. I¡¯ve been here almost a year now.¡±


    ¡°I know how you feel,¡± Max replied, ¡°Given you don¡¯t remember the circumstances that has to suck. Yet I¡¯ve been told how well you¡¯ve been doing and I¡¯m here to also let you know that when the time is right, I will advocate on your behalf to be released. Just keep up the good work and give me all the ammo I need to win, okay?¡±


    John seemed to feel better upon hearing that. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll keep putting in my best effort.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all I ask for.¡± Max said as he then handed him a bag. ¡°I brought some stuff for you as well. I hope you like them.¡±


    Max and John sat at that picnic table and talked for the better part of an hour before guards finally broke things up so everyone else could have their outside time. As Max walked back into the hospital, both Lawson and Wilson were waiting for him.


    ¡°What did he say?¡± Wilson asked.


    ¡°You know exactly what he said,¡± Max replied with a little hostility. ¡°You¡¯re lucky John didn¡¯t see the bug planted under the table like I did.¡±


    Wilson paused for a moment, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I can¡¯t take any chances where this patient is concerned.¡±


    ¡°He seems fine to me,¡± Max said as he calmed down a bit, ¡°Something I will be telling the judge when I see him next week.¡±


    ¡°We need more time,¡± Lawson protested, ¡°We can¡¯t petition for his release unless we are sure he¡¯s not going to remember anything.¡±


    ¡°You have three months.¡± Max told him, ¡°I¡¯m still going to speak with the judge to update him but I will not make any recommendations until then. Agreed?¡±


    ¡°Agreed,¡± Wilson said as he shook Max¡¯s hand, ¡°Nice to see you again.¡±


    ¡°Three months,¡± Max repeated, ¡°That¡¯s it.¡±

 11. Free To Go

    Despite the protest from Doctor Lawson, he eventually had to concede there was no reason John should not be released. He had been a model patient, and tolerated a lot of tests and therapy for the better part of eighteen months. Max had tried a few times to get John''s release papers and only succeeded on the third try. Many medical experts that Max spoke with were positive that if John''s memory was going to return, it would have happened sooner rather than later. They were sure that the damage to his brain had completely obliterated the memories that he had prior to the accident. The longer he went without any recall, the less likely it was ever going to happen.


    So when Max took his case to court and explained that John had gone above and beyond to prove he was no longer a threat to society, the judge reluctantly agreed. The judge still insisted that certain conditions be met before signing off, which Max pretty my expected. It was a short list and they didn''t seem too intrusive. John had to check in with what was like an unofficial parole officer, attend therapy with a local shrink, and stay close to where Max was living so that he could keep an eye on him too. The last was not expected by Max but seeing that John trusted him a lot, it seemed fair to have him nearby if his help was needed. Max agreed to the conditions, as did John the next time Max when to visit him. Upon agreeing to the terms of his release, the judge signed off as well and he would be released the next day. The judge seemed uncomfortable about it, but he had no choice. Max had painted him into a corner and this had to happen sooner or later, especially since not a single memory came back and John was also a model patent at the mental facility.


    The next day, Max and Hugh drove back up to the mental facility that had been John''s home for over a year. John had packed lightly and was all smiles as he waited at the curb for the car to pull up. Once he parked the car, Max got out and walked over to shake John''s hand.


    "Welcome to the free world," Max said before taking the box from John and carrying it over to the trunk which was already open.


    "Thanks," John replied, "It feels weird to be out. Hello Mr. Kissel!"


    "Hey John," Hugh said. He had the window rolled all the way down and his elbow sticking out as he rested his arm. "If you could be so kind, please get into the damn car before those doctors change their mind."


    John looked at the door to the facility and then back at Hugh. "That''s not a bad idea."


    Max shut the trunk and watched as John got into the back. He then looked over at the front door, where a few doctors were watching. Some of them had to know what was going on, who they were releasing back into the unknowing public. Max wasn''t concerned they would leak the details of John''s case, or the fact that he was the Night Reaper. If word got out, they''d get the most heat from an angry public for letting him go in the first place. Their hands were just as tied as the courts, which meant John''s secret would remain one for quite some time if all went well. That in itself was a very tall order. Once back in the car, Max turned back to look at John.


    "You eat lunch, yet?" he asked his new passenger.


    "Not yet," John answered.


    "Let''s hit the Bob''s Rib Joint again," Hugh said, as he relished the idea of good barbeque again, "John''s freedom is worth celebrating."


    "Sounds good to me," John asked, "But I hope you guys are buying, because I''ve got to watch my budget."


    "Lunch is on me," Max called out.


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    "Since John is a client," Hugh added, "You can write this off as a business expense anyway."


    "Bingo." Max said with a smile as he pulled out onto the streets and started to drive away from the hospital John had been at for so long.


    John couldn''t help but look back at the mental facility and what the last year had been like for him. He remained rather quiet during the short trip down the highway to the same rib shack that Max and Hug had taken him to before he checked into the hospital. As they sat at the table and waited for their food, max could tell that John was in another world rather than at the table with him and Hugh.


    "John," Max started, "You''ve been rather quiet during our trip."


    "I''m sorry," John replied, smiling back. "I''m just nervous. After all that''s happened, part of me can''t believe they just let me walk. I''m expecting that agent or that sheriff to come out of nowhere and drag me back to the hospital for a few more years."


    "Not going to happen," Hugh said after taking a sip of his beer.


    "They''d have to get through us first." Max added.


    "Thank you," John said, sipping his water. "I really don''t know how I would have gotten out of this nightmare without you."


    "You''ll be alright." Max said, as he patted John on the shoulder, "I will be living less than two blocks away, and Hugh always finds a way to visit my practice so you''ll have friend where you''re going and I am very confident you''ll make more on your own."


    "What practice?" John asked.


    "I''m sorry if I didn''t tell you," Max said, clearing his throat. "My wife was offered a job in another county, so I quit the public defender office and set up my own law firm. It''s been difficult but I think we''re doing all right so far."


    "I had no idea," John said, shocked, "What county do you live in now?"


    "It''s a nice area." Max replied, "You''ll like it."


    "It''s not in that Sheriff''s jurisdiction either," Hugh said, "So you won''t have to worry about that jackoff off harassing you."


    "I like it already," John declared.


    Everyone at the table had a good laugh, and the tension at the table died down a little bit. As they were talking more about John''s future accommodations, Max couldn''t help but notice something out of the corner of his eye. He immediately put his napkin down on to the table and stood up.


    "Where are you going?" Hugh asked.


    "Little boy''s room," Max replied, "Nature is calling."


    Max left the table and slowly marched into the men''s room, eager to see if his instincts were right. Once he was in there, he got all the confirmation when he spotted the man washing his hand in the sink.


    "Special Agent Wilson," Max said, as he stood there with his arms folded, "I really hope you''re here for the good food."


    "Don''t be a fool." Wilson said, drying his hands, "You know I''m still following John. The surveillance will never stop."


    "How long does this guy have to live a normal life before you finally let this go?" Max asked.


    "To be honest, I''m not sure." Wilson honestly answered, "But I''m not there yet."


    "What what about the apartment I set up for him?" Max then asked, "Are you going to watch him there too?"


    "Not directly." Wilson replied, as he understood how upset Max was to see him there. He honestly didn''t care. "We will have two agents living in an apartment down the hall, posing as good neighbors. Their job is to monitor the building, not spy on him. Just to make sure no pets or people disappear in the middle of the night. Keep a head count and just make sure nothing major occurs."


    "Alright," Max conceded, "I''ll let that slide."


    "You will?" Wilson replied, shocked.


    "As long as you don''t get caught," Max added, as he was not against completely the idea. "If he spots a van watching him, or catches someone following him or going through his apartment, I''ll slap you with the mother of all restraining orders. I won''t say anything, but if John catches you, I will unload in court with both barrels. Are we clear?"


    "Crystal," Wilson replied, "I''ll make sure that never happens."


    "We''ll see about that." Max said, as he watched the F.B.l. agent stroll out of the bathroom. Max tossed some water into his face and collected himself before returning to his table. He would tell Hugh about it later, but for the time being John didn''t need to know any of it. Max wanted him to have a legit shot at a new life, and the last thing he wanted was the guy to spend it all looking over his shoulder. He wouldn''t act unless he had a reason too. As long as Wilson and his people kept their distance, the easier it would to prove them to that John was no longer a threat. Soon enough they''d eventually get bored and eventually move on to more exciting cases. Eventually.

 12. Summer Love

    When John moved into his new apartment, while it was really quiet he loved the fact that he has his own television. At the mental facility, what channels they go to watch were highly restricted by the staff. They obviously didn''t want them to view programs that might upset them and cause fighting among the patients. Despite his new found freedom, John always seemed to drift back to the same channels and shows he used to watch at the hospital. It must have been a comfort to him, at least help him get used to the new place before trying new things, and even new shows on the television. The first week was unsettling for John, as he had no one to answer to. There were no orderlies telling when to eat or when it was time to sleep; he was no in charge when any of that happened.


    Like the television, John found himself falling into old habits, eating and sleeping at the same times he did at the hospital. It wasn''t until a month after he moved into his new apartment that John slowly start so change the time he did some things. His new job slowly helped him with that as well. Max had secured him employment with a local grocery store, stocking shelves and even helping at the cash when line got really long. He didn''t mind a little labour to keep him busy, and the distraction was welcome because he didn''t want to sit around and just watch the same shows like he did at the hospital. It was nice to see and speak to new people as well. For the sake of not sounding weird, the Feds and Max also forged up some new papers, much like they would for someone who was in witness protection. To make things easy for him, his first name was still John, which was a common name. It was his surname that needed to chance since Doe was not as common. His new surname was much more common, as he would be John Smith at least for the time being. Max had assured him if he ever needed to move again to a new town, he''d have more input in choosing his next identity. He didn''t mind as the name was so common, no one would bat an eye. I helped him blend into the new town, which was all John really wanted.


    Every few weeks, Max would stop in to visit. He would often bring some groceries with him, just to help out. John didn''t really need the help but appreciated the fact that Max cared enough to try. He was a good friend, one that he hoped to keep for some time. He knew the best way to keep Max happy would be to stay out of trouble, which he worked very hard to do. One week some of his co-workers asked him to hit a bar with them on payday and have a good time. As tempting as it was to socialize after hours, John aired on the side of caution. He knew Max would be proud of him but he never brought it up, and just talked to the lawyer about normal stuff. Max and his wife were both doing well in their new community. His wife was excelling in her new position and Max''s law firm had steady work that kept the lights on. John even learnt that he wasn''t the only pro-bono case Max was working on. The public defender in him had a hard time saying no to people in need of help. It was the thing John admired most about Max, his eagerness to help those who are incapable of helping themselves. John hoped that one day he would be able to return the kindness that Max had given to him without wanting anything in return. Maybe one day he could, but for the time being the lawyer would have to settle for his gratitude.


    When he was out in public, John didn''t try to avoid people but often didn''t try to interact with other when he didn''t have to. He had only been out of the hospital for a few months and was determined to stay out of trouble. Yet when people took the time to say hello or hold a door open for him, he would be nice to respond in kind or thank them.


    One day John was in line to get some coffee before heading to work when a lady walked up to him and spoke to him first.


    "Excuse me," the lady asked, "But I''m late for work. Do you mind if I cut in line so I don''t get in trouble with my boss?"


    "I don''t mind," John replied, "but what the people behind me?"


    "They know me," she informed him, "I often cut in line this time of day and they don''t mind."


    At that moment the teller called for the next person to place their order. John held out his arm to indicate that she could go first.


    "After you," John said with a pleasant smile. He was way ahead of schedule and if no one else was going to object, he wouldn''t either.


    The young woman placed her order and then looked back at John to realize he was staring at her.


    "Is there something wrong?" she asked him.


    "No, sorry." John said, as he stopped staring. "For some reason you look very familiar."


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    "Does that line work with most women?" she asked, smiling.


    "Probably not," John replied.


    "Well I am a regular here," she continued, "Maybe you saw me here another morning when I came to get my coffee."


    "Not likely," John retorted, "I would have remembered someone budding in line."


    "Touch¨¦," the lady said, laughing. "My name is Felicia."


    "I''m John," he replied.


    "Pleasure to meet you," Felicia said, as she then took her coffee from the vendor. "Maybe when I have more time we''ll talk more about how ineffective your pick up line is."


    "Sure," John said, smiling. "I''ll take all the help I can get. I''m not exactly what you would call Sauv¨¦ or romantic."


    "Fair enough," Felicia replied, "See you around."


    John saw here again the next morning, and the morning after that and so on to the point where is started to become a part of their morning routine. When she wasn''t running late, sometimes Felicia would buy coffee and muffins and they''d spend some time at the shop talking about many things. Other times it''d be a quick hello before scrambling off for work. After a month of doing that, John scrounged up the courage to ask Felicia out on a real date, which to his surprise she accepted. So rather than talk over breakfast like they had so many times before, this time it was over dinner. To help out Max gave John one of his older suits since they were close to the same size, and as the attorney has surmised, seeing John in a suit made a great impression on their date.


    "Wow," Felicia said as John showed up to sit down, "You look amazing."


    "Thanks," John said, sitting down. "You look great too."


    "This old thing?" Felicia joked, "Just grabbed it out of the closet."


    While some may have been offended by that comment, seeing Felicia''s sense of humor early in the date helped John relax and calm his nerves. That make for a better date, and it was quite clear throughout dinner that the two of them were quite fond of one another. Yet things became a little tense when Felicia started to ask some questions.


    "Are you from here originally?" she started.


    "I''m not sure."


    "You''re not sure?"


    "It''s complicated."


    "What about your parents? Where are they?"


    "I honestly don''t know."


    "Okay, any siblings? Brothers? Sisters?"


    "Maybe."


    "Maybe?"


    "Best I can do," John explained, "Would you prefer I lie?"


    "That''s enough." Felicia said as she put down her fork. "I was under the impression that you liked me. Why all the secrecy?"


    "It''s not what you think," John said, realizing how offended she might have been. "It''s not that I don''t want to tell you, but I can''t."


    "What do you mean you can''t?" she asked.


    John took a deep breath. "I was in a car accident a while back."


    "Okay," Felicia said, now feeling a little bad for grilling him.


    "I was in a coma for almost half a year." John continued, "The doctors think it was a miracle that I woke up at all. It was a severe head trauma, and when I woke up I remembered nothing."


    "Nothing?" Felicia repeated.


    "Not a damn thing." John confirmed, "I was a blank canvas. I have no memory of anything before waking up in that hospital. I might have brothers or sisters, or I might be an only child. Either my parents are passed or I haven''t spoken to them in a while because they''re not really looking for me right now. I don''t even remember my own name. Before I became John Smith, I was John Doe for quite a while."


    "Wow," Felicia said, reaching over to take his hand with hers. "I am so sorry for prying like that. I had no idea."


    "It''s okay," John said, appreciating the gesture. "It''s not something I broadcast. I just take things one day at a time and create new memories rather than try to get back what I lost."


    "That''s a great attitude," Felicia said, "I can''t imagine how scary it would be to lose so much time. I once got a concussion from a cheer leading accident and lost the hour before it. You''ve lost decades, and there''s nothing at all?"


    "I''m afraid not," John confirmed, "Was like someone had restored me to factory settings."


    "Well, I hope this memory is worth keeping." Felicia said, smiling.


    "For sure," John replied, "I hope to never forget this moment."


    "So when you said I looked familiar," Felicia continued, "That wasn''t a pick up line. Did I almost stir a memory?"


    "I''m not sure," John replied, "It felt like a moment of d¨¦j¨¤ vu, like I had been in your presence before but I have no idea how."


    "Well then," Felicia said, smiling again, "Maybe we can go on a few more dates and see what else comes back. Worst thing that happens is we create a few more ourselves."


    "Soundslike a plan." John said, excited about the chance to see her a few more times.For whatever reason, simply being around her just made his whole body feel morecomfortable. He had no idea why, but he just felt more alive whenever she wasaround. He didn''t want that feeling to ever go away so he worked hard to be thekind of man that he thought an amazing woman like Felicia deserved.


    They went on many more dates throughout that summer, and while nothing came back to John as far as his memories were concerned, he still felt safe and protected whenever he was around her. It was more than enough reason the next year to get on one knee and ask her to marry him. She was blown away that he could even save up for a ring that quickly, but the answer was obvious. For the first time in his shortened new life, John had never felt happier than the day Felicia agreed to marry him. He had hope for the future, a far cry from the hell he wasin when he first woke up. Those days were behind him as John was looking forward to a much brighter future with the woman that would soon become hiswife.

 13. The Blonde Bombshell

    John¡¯s relationship with Felicia seemed to blossom faster than anyone could have anticipated. Rather than try to get John to remember his past, Felicia preferred to create new memories with John and look forward to happy days ahead. It was an attitude that John appreciated and one that he also adopted. Rather than trying to look back, look towards the future which looked rather bright. It wasn¡¯t six months later that John moved into Felicia¡¯s condo and shacked up. While Wilson and the FBI were a little concerned about the development, Max did his best to keep them all at bay. Felicia didn¡¯t actually match the preferences that Reaper used to look for in his victims, so that was cause for the feds to believe that John was still moving forward without his memories and that nothing was coming back to him. Max also alleviated fears by setting up double dates with John and Felicia. Max¡¯s wife loved the idea as she was desperate to have more friends, and she got along with Felicia quite well. Pretty soon the women were planning all their social meetings, which was Max¡¯s plan from the beginning. Once they women kicked their social calendar into cruise control, the less suspicious it looked for Max to keep his eye on John. Wilson himself was very impressed with that angle but still cautioned the lawyer and his wife to be careful. Things were never perfect between the couples, and there were times that Max even acted weird which was only noticed by his wife. There was one day when she did something unexpected for a double date, but Max¡¯s reaction what anything but normal. When Max walked into the kitchen when returning from work, he was so stunned by what he saw that he jumped as if he had seen a ghost.


    ¡°Jesus Christ!¡± Max screamed, also dropping everything he was carrying at the same time.


    ¡°What?¡± Janet said, with a face that showed genuine disappointment, ¡°All I did was color my hair. I know you¡¯re surprised but do you have to act like that?¡±


    Max took a deep breath and attempted to compose himself. What Janet had done was completely out of left field for her. Not only had his wife dyed her hair at the saloon that day, but it was also a bright and very intense blonde. She looked stunning in it, almost like a young Marilyn Munroe. Max checked his watch and then back up at Janet.


    ¡°We¡¯re supposed to meet John and Felicia for dinner,¡± Max informed her.


    ¡°I know that,¡± Janet confirmed, ¡°That¡¯s why I did my hair!¡±


    ¡°This is a disaster,¡± Max said pulling out his cell phone. ¡°I¡¯ll call John and cancel, tell him that I¡¯m being held up at work.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Janet said, as she became hostile, ¡°Did you say we¡¯re going to cancel?¡±


    Max turned off his phone and looked back at her. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but unless you plan to change your hair back, we can¡¯t go.¡±


    ¡°So, now you¡¯re telling me what to do?¡± Janet asked, as it was clear to hear that someone might be sleeping in the guest room or on the couch tonight.


    ¡°I asked you not to do this last year,¡± Max reminded her, ¡°I told you not to change your hair unless passing it by me first.¡±


    ¡°I remember you telling me,¡± Janet replied, ¡°But I also remember thinking what a sexist, controlling, chauvinistic asshole you were for even making the suggestion.¡±


    ¡°I had a reason for saying that!¡± Max snapped back at her, raising his tone to her. ¡°That was for your safety!¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Janet said again, ¡°What the hell are you babbling on about here, Max?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you,¡± Max said, remembering his oath. ¡°That case is sealed, and I¡¯m not allowed to discuss it with anyone.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s rich,¡± Janet said as she didn¡¯t seem impressed. ¡°I am leaving to meet with John and Felicia for Sushi tonight. You can come with me or stay home; your choice councilor.¡±


    Janet went upstairs to change for their upcoming double date, while Max was left downstairs to panic. It wasn¡¯t just the fact that his wife dyed her hair that upset him, but it was the fact that she looked so damn stunning that worried him the most. That kind of bombshell blonde could be enough to trigger the Reaper. It wasn¡¯t a risk he was willing to take. He went on the phone and started to make some calls. Close to twenty minutes later, two black sedans came screaming onto the road and came to a screeching halt in front of Max¡¯s house. Four black suits walked out of each car and quickly ran up to the front door, which Max had opened for them so they could immediately enter without drawing more attention to themselves. The last man to walk in stopped after he entered, took off his sunglasses, and looked Max right in the eyes.


    ¡°Where is she?¡± Wilson asked, taking what Max had told him very seriously.


    ¡°Upstairs getting ready for our date,¡± Max answered, ¡°I don¡¯t mean to panic, but I didn¡¯t know what to do.¡±


    ¡°You did the right thing,¡± Wilson said as he walked into the living room where the other several agents were. ¡°Secure the exits. Mrs. Sheppard doesn¡¯t leave until we have a chance to speak with her.¡±


    As the other agents walked away to guard the doors, Janet was coming down the stairs to speak with Max. She was wearing a stunning black cocktail dress which made her newly dyed hair really stand out. She looked surprised to see Agent Wilson who was standing in the living room with Max, who face was just as stunned as the lawyers was earlier.


    ¡°My gaud,¡± Wilson said out loud when saw Max¡¯s wife descend down the stairwell, ¡°You really did the right thing, Max.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me,¡± Janet said as she walked closer, ¡°Who is this man and what is he doing in our house?¡±


    ¡°Sorry to interrupt your day ma¡¯am,¡± Wilson started, as Max could tell he was kicking in the FBI charm, ¡°Special Agent Wilson, F.B.I.¡±


    ¡®What are you doing here?¡± Janet asked.


    ¡°Max called us,¡± Wilson answered, ¡°Because he informed us of your new hair style.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Janet said, shocked beyond belief. ¡°The Feds are here because I dyed my hair?¡±


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    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Wilson said, not making light of the issue. ¡°This isn¡¯t a joke. Your hair style could cause triggers that could put everyone¡¯s life in danger.¡±


    ¡°Is he serious?¡± Janet asked her husband.


    ¡°I am,¡± Wilson said answered for him, ¡°You are not allowed to leave the building until we have taken care of the situation. We can have a stylist here in ten minutes to correct this.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Janet said again, highly offended, ¡°This hair looks amazing on me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the problem,¡± Wilson replied, ¡°It looks too amazing. We fear the unsub might suffer heavy triggering by it.¡±


    ¡°Unsub?¡± Janet repeated.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Wilson answered, ¡°It¡¯s law enforcement lingo for unknown subject.¡±


    ¡°Who is the unsub?¡± Janet asked, and then it occurred to her. The only person she knew who didn¡¯t know his own name. ¡°John?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Wilson replied, ¡°The man is far more dangerous than you can imagine. Max and only a handful of people know the truth about what he could be. This is why we can¡¯t take any chances.¡±


    ¡°What he could be?¡± Janet repeated. ¡°If you think he¡¯s dangerous, why isn¡¯t he in jail?¡±


    ¡°He lost his memory,¡± Max replied, ¡°Legally defendants aren¡¯t fit to stand trial if they have no memory of committing any of the crimes he or she are being accused of.¡±


    ¡°Crimes?¡± Janet then repeated, noticing the plural. ¡°What kind of crimes is John suspected of committing?¡±


    ¡°What I¡¯m about to tell you Mrs. Sheppard is under seal,¡± Wilson said, his face as stern as it was since they started talking. ¡°We suspect John might be responsible for the abduction, torture and murder of over a hundred women.¡±


    Janet eyes went wide as saucers. ¡°Over a hundred?¡±


    ¡°At least,¡± Wilson confirmed, ¡°We are able to connect him to all these homicides because the method of operation was identical. Since his accident and his apparent amnesia, the killing has stopped. We prefer to keep it that way. He¡¯s been under constant surveillance ever since he was released from the hospital. To make sure there are no triggers, no flashbacks that might cause him to want to kill again.¡±


    ¡°This is insane,¡± Janet said, motioning to her hair. ¡°So, you think my blonde hair will trigger John¡¯s dormant memories and turn him into a raging psychopath? What the hell is he, the Night Reaper?¡±


    There was a long uncomfortable pause in the room. Max covered his mouth, shocked that her sarcasm managed to hit the bull¡¯s eye of the situation.


    ¡°Yes, he is.¡± Wilson answered, ¡°Ever since John¡¯s accident, the Reaper hasn¡¯t touched a single person. John very well might be the most lethal serial killer in our nation¡¯s history.¡±


    Janet turned to face her husband. ¡°Is he serious?¡±


    ¡°He is,¡± Max confirmed for her, ¡°Without his memories, they didn¡¯t have a case. They couldn¡¯t even confirm his identity. His face was smashed up and none of his prints or DNA was in the system. A first-year law student could have gotten this case tossed out of court.¡±


    ¡°You knew all this time!¡± Janet said, disappointed in him. ¡°You¡¯ve been defending this monster!¡±


    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Wilson said as he stepped in, ¡°While the odds are not good, there is still a chance that John isn¡¯t our man. We¡¯re just not willing to take any risks. This is why you cannot attend your dinner with your hair looking this amazing.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Janet said, ¡°What about Felicia?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s safe,¡± Wilson assured her, ¡°We have people watching her as well, but we¡¯re not overly concerned. She doesn¡¯t meet the preferences of the Reaper, so this is why we think she¡¯s a good thing for him. Being with her will keep him grounded and living a normal life.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to let her marry that monster?¡± she asked.


    ¡°She¡¯s marrying a man she loves,¡± Wilson corrected her, ¡°If even a little bit of that monster peeks out, we will take him down. The whole reason I¡¯m here is to protect everyone from that possible threat.¡±


    ¡°If you think this is possible, why not lock him away and throw away the key?¡± Janet said, as she was clearly confused to why the feds and Max were going to all this trouble.


    ¡°Because John is an American,¡± Max replied, ¡°He has rights.¡±


    Janet replied by slapping her husband across the face with a hard open hand, which caught both Max and Wilson by surprise.


    ¡°That is such bullshit!¡± She charged, ¡°John¡¯s rights are not more important than a hundred women¡¯s right to exist! Those rights are no more important than the rights of the hundreds of other women he might kill next! Your priorities are really fucked up here!¡±


    At that moment, there was a knock at the door. The agent called from the front door to let them know they stylist had arrived.


    ¡°Show her in,¡± Wilson ordered.


    ¡°You¡¯re not kidding about this?¡± Janet asked.


    ¡°No ma¡¯am,¡± Wilson ordered, ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±


    It took the stylist close to an hour to change her hair. To avoid doing damage to Janet¡¯s hair, the stylist just went straight to something only a little darker to cover it up. Something new that didn¡¯t look the old look so people would assume this was the dye work Janet had done earlier in that day.


    When Janet walked in with a stunning auburn hair do, she looked at her husband with disgust. ¡°We¡¯re already forty-five minutes late!¡±


    ¡°I already called them,¡± Max told her, ¡°They think I¡¯m being held up by work and you¡¯re waiting for me to come home.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I don¡¯t want to go,¡± Janet then told the two men, ¡°Maybe I don¡¯t feel like breaking bread with a serial killer!¡±


    ¡°Mrs. Sheppard,¡± Wilson said to her, ¡°We need to keep things as normal as possible. Please co-operate with us and keep all the information we provided you today to yourself. You cannot tell anyone about it, especially Felicia.¡±


    ¡°You idiots are playing with fire,¡± Janet said as she grabbed her purse, ¡°The fact that you think you can control the situation is laughable, and this will all blow up in your ignorant faces!¡±


    Without saying anything else, Janet stormed out of the house and walked out to their car.


    Max looked back at Wilson as he put his jacket on. ¡°Are you sure we¡¯re not making a mountain out of a molehill?¡±


    ¡°No, we¡¯re not.¡± Wilson coldly replied, sighing deeply. ¡°When we raided one of his hideouts, he had several of Marilyn¡¯s DVDs in his collection. We even suspect Munroe is the reason he prefers to attack only blondes in the first place. The last thing I wanted John to see was that hairdo. Trust me, you made the right call.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t feel like it,¡± Max said rubbing his chin.


    ¡°Just make sure she doesn¡¯t talk,¡± Wilson informed him, ¡°If Felicia leaves him for no reason at all, there¡¯s a chance it could also cause a trigger. Our profile suspects his rage against women might have resulted from abandonment issues from a woman he cared about deeply. This could come from his mother, or a former spouse or lover. This man¡¯s mind is like a mine field, so we need to be careful or we¡¯ll all get blown to smithereens.¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± Max replied, aware of the dangers.


    Max could tell that Agent Wilson looked relived to see her with the new style, and he had no doubt that their relief confirmed to his wife as she left that they were telling the truth about John. All this information had to be upsetting to his wife, but he could tell she was doing her best to keep most of her anger to herself as she stomped out of the house.


    ¡°She¡¯ll get over it,¡± Wilson said to Max, ¡°Eventually.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Max said, but he really didn¡¯t care. Her anger was the least of his worries. If John truly was the reaper, then like Wilson said he was a mine field. Any trigger could cause him to go dark and there was no telling what he would do from there. As he walked out of the house and stepped into the car, Max could tell by the silence that he was in the most trouble he had ever been in during the entire history of their marriage. He started the car and paused for a moment.


    ¡°Am I on the couch tonight?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet,¡± Janet replied. ¡°Let¡¯s not talk about it right now. We¡¯re late enough as it is already.¡±


    ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am,¡± Max said as he started to pull the car out of the driveway. He already knew this wasn¡¯t the end of the conversation. He was going to get a long telling off after their double date. At least he would have time over dinner to prepare a defense, which thankfully was his specialty.

 14. Wedding Bells

    About several months after John and Felicia has moved in together, John saved up enough money to get a ring and ask her to be his wife. She was touched by the effort he made despite the low income he was making. John had gone back to school to remedy that, but it was going to take some time before he would be able to apply his new education. The government had given John a grant, especially since he couldn¡¯t remember the education he had gotten before the accident. Since the accident wasn¡¯t even his fault, John was given a settlement from the other driver¡¯s insurance company, which he was going to use to pay for their wedding. It wasn¡¯t an enormous amount of money, but Felicia insisted on paying for some of it as well, refusing to let it eat away at most of John¡¯s settlement. As the big day drew closer, everyone had butterflies but for completely different reasons. Max and Janet had several fights over the course of those months, debates about the ethics of not telling Felicia who she might be actually marrying that day. Max would always win the day by reminding her that John might be innocent, and that it would be unfair to ruin their happiness for something that they have no idea is even true. The absence of evidence made it difficult to figure out how to handle it. Despite her reservations, Janet agreed to keep quiet as she was also confident Wilson, and his agents would never let anything happen to Felicia. She made life difficult for Max over it, but eventually had to let it go. Despite what she knew, she kept it all together for her friend and never let on to John that she knew. This was especially good since Felicia had asked Janet to be her maid of honor. John had also asked Max to be his best man, fitting since his hard work was the main reason John was living a good life and was happy. Despite some cold feet, the wedding was trouble free and without issue. Max was there to support John as he patiently waited for her bride to walk down the aisle. When Felicia did make her big appearance, Max could have sworn that John had wiped away a tear, which the first time the lawyer had ever seen something like that. Neither John nor Felicia was very religious but still got married in a church to keep her parents happy as well as go with the big white wedding, which was every girl¡¯s dream and John didn¡¯t want to take that spectacle away from her.


    Throughout the ceremony, Max kept looking over at his wife to see how she had been holding up. She hadn¡¯t taken the news well of what John could be, and why the FBI was still watching him. Yet he had convinced her to remain quiet, reminding her that John¡¯s life had changed and the years since that accident had resulted in zero blood shed, and he might live a long and happy life with Felicia and never go back to being that person if he ever was. Max also pointed out to her all the holes in the case that the D.A. had, and that the case was circumstantial at best. John took the deal because it was the path of least resistance, and he wanted a clean break. Wilson and the FBI were only doing their thing just in case they were right but not even they knew if John was really their guy. They were taking precautions, and even though not a single person had been killed since John¡¯s accident that morning in town, it was still coincidental and not certifiable evidence that proved John was that vicious serial killer.


    Max stood there beside John, as his best man, and watched as the couple made their vows, exchanged rings, and then kissed to seal the deal. They were both smiling, and even crying a little bit as this seemed to be the most amazing day of their lives. Max was sincerely happy for them and hoped that this was just the start of their happily every after. As the couple walked back down the aisle and back outside the church, Max couldn¡¯t help but notice someone at the back of the church. The sheriff was easy to spot as he was still in uniform and looking as tough as ever as he also stepped outside with the rest of the guests as everyone went outside to participate in the wedding photos. Max followed him outside, but he was too late. The Sheriff was already speaking to John when he caught up.


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Max asked as he stepped between them. ¡°Do I need to file a restraining order?¡±


    ¡°No, you do not.¡± The sheriff replied, ¡°I merely came over to congratulate the happy couple and to show there are no hard feelings, I even brough a gift.¡±


    The Sheriff held up a gift bag and handed it over to John.


    ¡°It¡¯s a blender,¡± The Sheriff explained, ¡°One of the many things I have learned from twenty plus years of marriage is that margaritas are the most effective peace offering when you¡¯re in the doghouse.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± John said, as he took the gift bag. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°I have no ill will towards you,¡± The Sheriff continued, ¡°I was just trying to protect the people under my watch. It was nothing personal, and I wish you both all the best and a long, happy marriage.¡±


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    ¡°Thank you,¡± John said again, ¡°I appreciate that.¡±


    ¡°I hate to break this up,¡± Max said, grabbing Jon¡¯s arm, ¡°But the photographer is waiting to take pictures.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t let me stop you,¡± The sheriff said, ¡°Last thing we want is the bride to be kept waiting.¡±


    ¡°Thank again,¡± John said as he walked away with Max.


    The Sheriff watched as Max and John walked away, put his sunglasses back on and folded his arms and continued to watch as the couple and their wedding party started to pose for photos on the church stairs. As he was watching them, another man came up from behind him and put a friendly hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°Fancy finding you here, a wedding of all places.¡± Agent Wilson said, greeting him with a grin.


    ¡°I knew you were somewhere around here,¡± The sheriff said, as he never liked talking to the know-it-all fed.


    ¡°What was in the bag you gave him,¡± Wilson asked.


    ¡°It was a blender,¡± The Sheriff answered, ¡°It¡¯s something useful that will help.¡±


    ¡°That was nice of you,¡± Wilson said, ¡°I got them a salad bowl that could even double as a punch bowl. I thought it was rather practical.¡±


    ¡°Mine has a tracking device inside it,¡± The sheriff added, ¡°If your boy runs, let¡¯s hope he likes mixing drinks and takes it with him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite clever,¡± Wilson said, amused by the idea. ¡°But we¡¯ve already got that covered, and I can assure you he¡¯s still under constant surveillance.¡±


    ¡°Our tax dollars at work,¡± The Sheriff huffed. ¡°No wonder this damn country is going bankrupt.¡±


    ¡°Our budget isn¡¯t that infinite,¡± Wilson confessed, ¡°The apartment we¡¯re surveying him from is being rented with my own money. The agents who are stationed there are volunteers rotating on their days off. While it¡¯s not ideal, I like that our crew rotates out almost daily so it something happens if won¡¯t go unnoticed for more than twenty-four hours.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m impressed,¡± The sheriff confessed, ¡°You are dedicated.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t take any chances,¡± Wilson said, ¡°And while we might have no choice but to give up eventually, for now we¡¯ll keep watching.¡±


    ¡°Is there any chance I can volunteer some time?¡± The sheriff asked.


    ¡°If you want to, I can arrange that.¡± Wilson said, slightly surprised.


    ¡°Last thing I want to do is be caught stalking the dude,¡± The sheriff added, ¡°But I still want to help.¡±


    ¡°Alright, sound good.¡± Wilson said, ¡°I¡¯ll get in touch.¡±


    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± a voice called out as Hugh slowly sauntered up to the two lawmen standing there. ¡°Do we need to file a restraining order?¡±


    ¡°You friend Max already covered that,¡± The sheriff said, ¡°And that won¡¯t be necessary. The only thing we¡¯re here to hand out is best wishes and cheesy wedding gifts.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Hugh said, as he wasn¡¯t expecting that. ¡°As long as neither of you bought him a fondue set, because that¡¯s what I got him.¡±


    ¡°Not me,¡± the sheriff replied, ¡°Blender.¡±


    ¡°Punch bowl,¡± Wilson said, shaking Hugh¡¯s hand. ¡°Nice to see you again, Mr. Kessel.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re just here to observe there¡¯s nothing that needs to be done I suppose.¡± Kessel said, relaxing a bit. ¡°They¡¯re really happy to, so I wouldn¡¯t be too worried if I was you.¡±


    ¡°What makes you think we¡¯re worried?¡± Wilson asked.


    ¡°I can tell just by your posture,¡± Hugh replied, ¡°Even if the man¡¯s memories do come back, that doesn¡¯t guarantee he would go back to being the same psychopath he was before, if he even was that person we suspect he is the first place.¡±


    ¡°What makes you say that?¡± the sheriff inquired.


    ¡°He¡¯s making new memories, had a new life.¡± Hugh explained. ¡°What if his killing was started by rejection or abandonment from his mom or something? He¡¯s married now, and with a woman that loves him. Those circumstances could very well cancel out his old urges if they ever do come back.¡±


    ¡°They might,¡± Wilson conceded, ¡°But I¡¯m not willing to risk our lives or the lives of his future victims on it.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± Hugh noted, ¡°But just keep your distance and give him the space he needs to live his life. The last thing you want to do is pressure him into a corner.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t,¡± Wilson promised, ¡°We¡¯re strictly just observing. No one will take action unless I authorize it, or it¡¯s made in self defense.¡±


    ¡°That seems fair,¡± Hugh said, ¡°But if you have any request or need information, pass it by Max and I and we¡¯ll do our best to help out.¡±


    ¡°Are you practicing again?¡± Wilson asked.


    ¡°I got my license back,¡± Hugh informed him, ¡°While Max does most of the heavy lifting in court, it¡¯s nice to be able to act again if I want to.¡±


    ¡°Congrats,¡± Wilson said, as he was pleased to hear it. He took the time to hand his card over to him. ¡°Give me a call if you ever need anything from us.¡±


    ¡°Much appreciated,¡± Hugh said, as he returned the favor and passed a card over to the agent. ¡°Ditto for you and your people.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Wilson said, tucking the card into his pocket.


    ¡°Now if you¡¯ll excuse me,¡± Hugh said, as he noticed something. ¡°The pictures are all done so that means we have a reception to get to. Nice to see you again, gentlemen.¡±


    The two lawmen watched as Hugh walked away and then as he and the wedding party walked over to a few limos that were waiting to take them all to the hall where the reception was booked. The fun was just beginning, as was the marriage of the happy couple.

 15. The Family Man

    Things were relatively quiet after John and Felicia got married, and things appeared to look great much to Max and his wife¡¯s relief. Being in the same town made it easier for them to hang out, mingle and even be there if either needed help in one way or another. As time passed, Max even caught himself forgetting the past and how he and John actually became acquainted, but that would soon come bubbling back whenever Wilson would get into contact and check in for updates despite there being nothing to report most of the time. And yet life continued to unfold for John and Felicia, and they carried on as if any other couple would in their position. One day, Max and his wife were hosting the happy couple for dinner when they received the joyful news that they were expecting their first child. Excitement mingled with trepidation as everyone prepared for parenthood and the new addition coming along. Yet deep within John''s heart, a silent turmoil brewed.


    When the day came and Felicia gave birth to a beautiful and very healthy boy, John was at a loss on how he was supposed to act, and even feel in this situation. His amnesia left John devoid of any memories from his own childhood, so he had nothing to reference when looking for guidance to how to conduct his own duties as a father. He couldn''t recall the laughter, the warmth of his own dad¡¯s embrace, or the gentle counseling of a mother''s love. Months before the arrival of their son, John couldn''t help but feel a sense of unease as he had nothing to work with and that also scared him leading up to the big day.


    The day itself went by without any incident, as they made it to the hospital in decent time and delivered the child without issue. Felicia was feeding the child naturally and he left the room to give mom and new child a little privacy. As he was wandering the halls, John noticed that Max was there as well, and they met up in the waiting room. His former attorney and close friend was concerned about John and made his way to the hospital to check up on everyone, both child and parents. Max could tell there was something bothering them as they sat down to talk about it over crappy coffee made by the vending machine.


    ¡°Hey, John.¡± Max said, sitting across from him. ¡°How are you holding up?¡±


    ¡°About as well as can be expected,¡± John confessed, ¡°But to be honest with you, I¡¯m struggling with it a bit.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± Max asked him, curious to know.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong,¡± John started to explain, ¡°Becoming a father and getting the house ready for the new addition has been fun, and even exciting at times.¡±


    ¡°But?¡± Max asked, aware there was something else coming.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to feel about this,¡± John confessed, ¡°I really don¡¯t know how to feel because I don''t remember my own childhood. How can I give something to my child that I no longer possess myself?¡±


    Max sat there and sipped his gawd awful coffee while listening to John¡¯s confession and could sense that it was genuine and coming from his heart. He paused for a moment when he finished to process it and come up with what he thought might be helpful to his friend.


    "John,¡± Max started, taking a deep breath, ¡°You may not remember our past, but that doesn''t and will not define your ability to be a loving and caring father. I know from my own experience that parenthood is a journey of learning and growth. Right here and now, you have an opportunity to create new memories with Felicia and the baby. Some might consider starting a new family with a blank slate might be more of a blessing rather than curse.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± John asked, eager to know what he meant.


    ¡°It¡¯s true that we draw upon good memories of our parents to guide our own tenures as child bearers,¡± Max continued, ¡°But sometimes we also carry the burden of bad memories as well, and sometimes even pass that darkness onto our own children. While you are missing some of the good stuff that might have happened in your own childhood, you¡¯re also not going to burden the child with any bad memories you might have lost as well.¡±


    ¡°I never thought of it that way,¡± John admitted.


    ¡°Rather than see this as a deficit,¡± Max carried on, ¡°Use this as an opportunity to make your own path rather than following others.¡±


    ¡°But what if I make mistakes?¡± John asked, ¡°What if I don''t measure up?¡±


    Max placed a reassuring hand on John¡¯s shoulder and smiled.


    ¡°No parent is perfect, John.¡± Max informed him, ¡°We all stumble and falter at times, but what truly matters how we deal with it. I honestly believe it¡¯s the love and dedication you bring to your child''s life that will overcome any adversity that comes your way. You¡¯re going to have a chance to build a beautiful bond with your son, and you¡¯ll create new and unique experiences that will be yours and yours alone. My dad always told me that as long as no one gets hurt, mistakes often make for the best stories to tell. I happen to agree with him, as some of my finest mistakes are the stories I call back on and are after the fact fondest memories. In time, you¡¯ll understand that all too well.¡±


    ¡°I hope so,¡± John said, as he sat back and started to relax.


    After sitting out there and just chilling, John and Max walked back to Felicia¡¯s room to check up on her and the baby. She was finished feeding her son, and the young lad was back in his little bassinet and soundly sleeping. John¡¯s gaze shifted from the baby to Sarah, who smiled at him with unwavering support. A surge of determination coursed through him, dispelling many of his doubts. He realized that his love for his wife and child would be an unbreakable force, irrespective of the past that he lost. At this point in time, he thought about what Max had said and even started to like that fact he couldn¡¯t remember as now he would be able to build his own future free of any constraint. In that moment, John embraced the prospect of fatherhood with newfound resolve, as he understood that his amnesia could never distinguish the love he had to offer. With his wife along with Max and other friends by his side, John knew he could embark on a journey to create a loving and nurturing environment for his child, one memory at a time.


    ¡°How are mother and child doing?¡± Max asked Felicia.


    ¡°We are doing fine,¡± Felicia answered, even though she was kind of fibbing a bit. ¡°Jackson had a good feeding and now he¡¯s sleeping it off.¡±


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    ¡°Jackson?¡± Max said, as he nodded in approval. ¡°I like it.¡±


    ¡°It was my Dad¡¯s name,¡± Felicia told him, ¡°And I thought it was safe to use since he¡¯s no longer with us.¡±


    ¡°It made sense really,¡± John added, ¡°Since we took her name when we married, I like the idea of paying tribute to the former head of her family tree. It just felt right for some reason.¡±


    ¡°It feels good,¡± Max said, rather proud. ¡°You two did well.¡±


    After Felicia and Jackson returned from the hospital and the weeks passed by, John marveled at the joy and wonders that parenthood brought. With every coo, smile, and milestone their son achieved, John reveled in the profound connection he shared with Jackson. Though John¡¯s own childhood continued to remain a blank canvas, he found solace in the fact that he had the power to paint a beautiful portrait for his own family; a portrait rich in love, compassion, and a newfound appreciation for the precious moments that life had to offer. There were tense moments throughout Jackson¡¯s first year of life, but it was just the normal things that most parents experienced. One day after putting Jackson down for a nap, Felicia could tell there was something bothering her husband and she reached out to him to help him work through it together. After a little pestering, John finally opened up about it.


    ¡°It''s about my amnesia,¡± John confessed, ¡°I was just concerned about how it would affect my ability to be a good father. The fact that I don¡¯t have any memories from my own childhood makes me question if I can truly understand our child''s needs. I¡¯m worried that I won¡¯t be able to provide the upbringing that Jack deserves. What if my lack of personal experiences hinders my ability to connect with him?"


    Sarah''s eyes softened with tenderness as she reached out to hold John''s hand.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t a bad thing, hun.¡± She said, reassuring him. ¡°People who worry about their kids are the ones who make the best parents. It¡¯s a sign of how outgoing and loving their going to be moving forward, and it¡¯s the people who think they can do it without issues are the folks that often fail as care givers.


    ¡°That¡¯s rather interesting,¡± John confessed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let your past define the future,¡± Felicia reminded him. ¡°You may not have memories of your own childhood, but that doesn''t mean you''re incapable of nurturing and connecting with your son.¡±


    ¡°I hope that¡¯s true,¡± John said, thinking about it.


    ¡°Look at the love and dedication you''ve shown me and our baby.¡± Felicia reminded him, ¡°It''s evident in every interaction and comforting touch. Trust in your instincts, John, and the love you have for him."


    ¡°Sounds good to me,¡± John said, as he was in agreement.


    ¡°There¡¯s also one big difference,¡± Felicia added, ¡°You¡¯re not in this alone. We''re going to take this all on together and conquer parenthood as a team. You and me all the friggin¡¯ way.¡±


    As John absorbed Sarah''s words, a sense of relief washed over him. Her journey was also his journey, and together, they could provide a nurturing environment for Jackson. One filled with love, support, and a commitment to learn and grow.


    Over the following weeks and months, John embraced the daily routines of parenthood with newfound confidence. With each diaper change, midnight feeding, and lullaby sung, he discovered his own unique way of connecting with his son. Sarah was there every step of the way, offering guidance, encouragement, and unwavering support. As their child grew, John began to witness the beauty of his own parental bonds unfold. He marveled at the little victories and cherished the simple joys of their shared experiences. Whether it was the first giggle, clumsy attempts at crawling, or late-night feedings, John¡¯s love knew no bounds.


    As they approached Jackson¡¯s second birthday, John¡¯s concerns about his amnesia slowly faded into the background. It was slowly learned that being a parent was not about dwelling on the past, but rather about embracing the present and building a future filled with love and cherished memories. Yet it was on the exact day of Jackson¡¯s birthday that something changed. It wasn¡¯t anything wrong with the party itself, or the many kids that were running around and causing a ruckus, but something small that happened away from the party that cause the incident to occur. One of Felicia¡¯s cousins had traveled from another state to share in the festivities, bringing her own children who were around Jackson¡¯s age. It was during this party that the cousin handed a gift to Felicia that wasn¡¯t for the boy but for her.


    ¡°I found this when I was cleaning out at attic to move,¡± her cousin explained to her, ¡°I found thousands of old photos and thought you might want this one.¡±


    Felicia removed the gift from it¡¯s box and it was a framed photo, and John could see the look on her face when she first gazed upon it. He walked over and looked at the photo over her shoulder. There was a picture of a woman that looked very much like Felicia, standing in front of a man, and wearing a gown at some sort of event.


    ¡°Who is that behind you?¡± John inquired.


    ¡°That¡¯s my father,¡± Felicia answered, ¡°This picture was taken at the university graduation ceremony.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± John said, as he hadn¡¯t seen many photos from her past. ¡°He looks very proud.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Felicia said, wiping a tear from her cheek. ¡°He was so proud that day.¡±


    It was at this moment that the sight of the photograph triggered something deep within John. For a fleeting moment, a fragment of memory resurfaced. It was the face of Felicia¡¯s father that had caused it because he remembered seeing that man before. He saw an image in his mind of a television, and Felicia¡¯s father was on the screen. He was standing at a podium, and there was a dozen microphones attached to it as he spoke about something. John couldn¡¯t recall the words being spoken but the man seemed determined and even angry about whatever he was discussing. John paused for a moment, as if he was suffering from a brain freeze.


    ¡°John?¡± Felicia asked, as she noticed this. ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m okay,¡± John said as he was eager to change the subject as he pointed to the picture. ¡°He looks like an important figure. Was he in politics by any chance?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Felicia answered, ¡°Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°He just has the presence about him,¡± John replied, ¡°Like a man that knows how to lead.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I suppose you¡¯re right.¡± Felicia agreed, ¡°Dad always had a way of getting people to bend to his side. Quite the talker too.¡±


    ¡°Now I see where you get it from,¡± John joked as everyone had a good laugh from it. Shortly after making the quibble, John excused himself and went to the bathroom.


    He quickly locked the door behind him, as he felt a wave of disorientation wash over him as he tried to piece together the details of the memory that had come back to him. He saw a dimly lit room, an overwhelming sense of fear. The memory was hazy, elusive, and laced with discomfort. He saw that television again, with Felicia¡¯s father speaking to the press, even shaking a fist about something. Was he a union man fighting the evil empires of the world? That part of the memory was unclear, as John sat down on the toilet and took a few deep breaths hoping it would just go away. His heart raced as he struggled to comprehend the significance of this unexpected recollection. The memory held no context or specific details, leaving him unsure of when or where they had taken place. It was a disturbing piece of the puzzle, forever haunting the depths of his consciousness. Without other details, it was near impossible to interpret what was going on, so John took a few deep breaths and chose to let it go.


    Unwilling to distress Felicia on their child''s special day, John chose to tuck the memory deep within himself, as it was a part of a past that no longer meant anything to him. John went back to the party, enjoyed himself and didn¡¯t think of the memory again for weeks afterwards as he was determined to forget it all over again. John understood that his true strength lay not in the memories lost, but in the love and resilience he displayed every day. He had created a new narrative, one filled with warmth, support, and a steadfast commitment to protect and nurture his family.


    As he watched two year old Jackson blow out the candles on his cake, David knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be and he wasn¡¯t going to let one little memory ruin the good thing he had going. What John didn¡¯t realize this day was that memory represented a crack in the dam. Water was starting to leak out, and it was only a matter of time before more memories followed.